


Moonlit Memories

by Strawberry_Requiem



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Half-Vampires, I normally wouldn't tag all these ships either, M/M, Modern Era, POV Multiple, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, There's a lot of stuff going on here and I know it seems like it won't work, Vampires, but it does in my head so we're rolling with it, but since we're doing multiple pov, so the main focus is gonna be romance and the mystery, they're all gonna have a moment, this is a gothic romance novel at heart fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Requiem/pseuds/Strawberry_Requiem
Summary: But, it wasn’t Fhirdiad herself that captivated him. It wasn’t her stone streets and old architecture that made him wonder what sort of place she had been. For Dimitri, it had always been the castle.Historian Dimitri receives a grant to restore one of Fhirdiad's old castles and recruits the help of his friends and family in the endeavor. But, with his strange dreams regarding the castle and its historical residents, odd occurrences happening with him and his friends, and an unexplained presence looming over them, it may have turned out to be more than any of them bargained for.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra, Glenn Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 99
Kudos: 263





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, I will be making a note when there are potentially troubling things in the chapters by way of Author's Notes at the beginning, as well as noting when and where sex acts occur so that those can best be avoided by those who might wish to.
> 
> Warnings this chapter:  
> Some talk of mental healthcare  
> Sex in the section labeled Edelgard
> 
> [As always, you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)

**Dimitri**

Ever since childhood, Dimitri had been obsessed with Castle Blaiddyd. 

He had always seen it standing tall above Fhirdiad, like a sentinel protector of sorts. Despite being empty for several centuries and with no restoration planned, it was something of a sight over the capital, one that felt too familiar to be a coincidence. Fhirdiad always had a sort of old-world charm, blending past and present almost seamlessly, so much so that Dimitri would often joke how a knight on horseback would be right at home on the busy streets next to a bright red sports car. But, it wasn’t Fhirdiad herself that captivated him. It wasn’t her stone streets and old architecture that made him wonder what sort of place she had been. For Dimitri, it had always been the castle. 

That was because he  _ knew _ the castle, like it was a living, breathing person.

Dreams of it had consumed his sleep for as long as he could remember. Ones that he couldn’t explain away with a visit to the location with school, or through watching a special on the History network in his free time; the castle had been a closed monument and no one had been allowed inside, not even to do restorative work. Still, he had the dreams. Dreams of walking through her corridors during her heyday. 

Not just walking through it, but being her ruler and protector. Her King. 

These dreams were usually filled with a bizarre woman whose name was always on the tip of his tongue when he woke, but try as he might to grasp at it, he could never quite recall it. 

He had told his family about these dreams when he was young, but his father wrote them off as an overactive imagination, suggesting he write down these stories, and his stepmother praised him for his creativity. But they  _ were  _ real, and writing them down would do nothing to satisfy the curiosity. He wanted to know why he knew its corridors, and who the woman who offered her hand to him and smiled in a way that unnerved and excited him was.

As a teenager, he would go to the castle sometimes. 

Most days, he stood in the courtyard, having hopped the fence where the chain-link had yet to be maintained and the barbed wire had fallen off, imagining where things would have been, how it would have looked centuries ago when it was inhabited. He could hear the clank of armor as soldiers came home from battle, hear the songs the cleaning staff sang as they hung out the linens to dry. The sorry state it was in always filled him with a pang of sadness that he didn't understand, and yet was acutely aware of. 

Only one time he went inside.

It was two months before his 18th birthday, and Dimitri wasn't one to accept dares most of the time. But Sylvain had wanted to see if there was anything cool in the castle. Felix had put up a fight, saying it was dumb and Sylvain was dumb for suggesting it until it was mentioned that they might find some old swords or armor that he could take home. Ingrid had been the only voice of reason, pleading that they didn't go up there. She didn't believe in the Ashen Demon legends that cloaked the castle necessarily, but it was better to not tempt fate. 

Under any other circumstances, Dimitri knew he would have agreed with Ingrid. But, this was Castle Blaiddyd. He wanted to see it,  _ needed _ to see it. Every part of him was screaming for it.

Which was why he volunteered to be the first to go inside, why he took the flashlight from Sylvain, and wearing all the bravado that he lacked in his day to day life and pushed through. 

* * *

Dimitri woke on the stone floor in the castle to the sounds of Ingrid and Sylvain pleading with him to wake up. He struggled to make sense of his surroundings, only then realizing where he was. They had made a pile of their bunched up jackets to put under his head, and off several feet away, Felix was fussing with the now-broken flashlight. 

They asked him how he got there, how the flashlight had been broken, but he had no recollection. The last thing he remembered was walking into the castle. But there they were, in a second-floor corridor and with a broken flashlight that had been fully functioning only moments ago to Dimitri’s memory of the events. But, he didn’t argue when Sylvain and Felix had acted as crutches to get him out. 

His parents were rightfully horrified when the boys brought Dimitri in near dawn. He was a teenager, and prone to shenanigans like any teenage boy, but staying out all night, that was unlike him. And the lost time was more than a little concerning. Dimitri hadn't known how long he had been out for, but it was approaching six am when they sat him down at the kitchen table and his parents made calls to Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix's parents to let them know that they were safe.

At his step mother's urging, tests were run on Dimitri. Medical tests, psychological tests. All manner of things to determine what caused him to have memory loss and end up unconscious. They subjected him to MRIs, blood tests, stress tests, sleep tests, full mental and psychological evaluation. Everything. And everything came back negative. 

"He's a perfectly healthy 18-year-old young man, Mrs. von Hresvelg-Blaiddyd." the last doctor who had seen him insisted, leafing through his steadily growing medical history packet, "we just don't know what is causing Dimitri's blackouts."

And he  _ was  _ blacking out, with growing regularity. But he didn't want to go to another doctor, be run through the gamut of tests  _ again _ to have  _ another  _ doctor tell him he was perfectly healthy, that he should be worrying about applying to universities, and going on dates, and getting on the athletic teams at school, that he shouldn't be in their offices.

Dimitri tried to do that, get back to regular life, and for a time, that worked. He went to university, dated a little, played sports, and went out drinking with Felix and Sylvain on the weekends. 

But the castle was still there, and it joined him in his dreams with increasing frequency. 

He would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, images of Castle Blaiddyd clinging desperately to his consciousness. Dimitri would rush for the nearest thing to write on, scribbling down, what he thought was incoherent gibberish in his half-asleep state. Then, sometime later. Days, weeks, a month, something would come up in class, or in a discussion with his friends that  _ clicked _ , and in such a way that he couldn't explain. He knew things, things he shouldn't have known, but he did.

So, Dimitri changed his major from Political Sciences to History. 

Maybe then he could finally get to the bottom of his connection to the castle. 

* * *

**Felix**

"You're...buying a castle."

Felix didn't believe what he was hearing. Or rather, he did, but he wished he didn't have to hear it. He hated having to be the voice of reason, the one to tell him that he was an idiot. And he  _ was _ being an idiot.

" _ I'm  _ not buying a castle. The University gave me the grant to restore one of the old castles here in Faerghus. You know, in the name of historical preservation. So, the university technically is."

Dimitri had invited them all to dinner that night. Big news, he promised. A life-changing opportunity for them all. Felix had been reluctant to accept, but when he saw that Annette had given an enthusiastic yes to the invitation, he also accepted. He minded her far less than the rest of the company Dimitri kept.

"Doesn't the government do this thing where they sell those old castles that are falling apart and shit for cheap if you promise to restore them?" Asked Sylvain, hand curled around a bottle of beer.

"I think I read an article about that." Dedue agreed, nodding. 

Mercedes clapped her hands together happily. "This sounds like fun. Have you decided which castle you're going to buy?"

Dimitri shifted. His food was untouched. "I was thinking Castle Blaiddyd."

"Of  _ fucking _ course," Edelgard threw her fork down onto her plate, "can't you just leave that castle alone? Mother and Father spent all that time on therapy for you after your friends found you passed out in the damn place, and you keep going back."

Felix could see the argument brewing between them. He speared a piece of food with his fork with a little too much force. "I hate to agree with your sister, but Edelgard is right," he paused, giving himself time to chew his food, "this is a dumb idea."

"Would I be allowed to tag along?" Asked Ashe. He had stayed silent throughout most of the conversation, choosing to fade into the back while the bigger personalities talked. 

"My plan was to ask all of you to help. I've been granted a stipend for myself and a crew of archeologists, historians, and others to help in the restoration."

Dimitri went on to explain in further detail. He had already spoken to Ingrid and Glenn about the castle and asked for them to put their next archaeological dig in Almyra on hold to help. Almyra was to be something of a honeymoon for them, but they ended up pushing back the courthouse wedding if it meant a chance to dig at Castle Blaiddyd. Mercedes was the medical staff because she was the only one he knew who could make sure they were taken care of. Sylvain, being a junior architecture assistant, was an obvious choice. The grounds were so overgrown that Dedue's botany knowledge was a must. Annette had practically volunteered herself; she wanted a chance to restore some of the old paintings she  _ knew _ had to be hiding inside. He had asked Ashe because he knew he was working on his thesis about local legends regarding Castle Blaiddyd and The Ashen Demon. 

Which left Felix. 

He crossed his arms, waiting for Dimitri to talk him up like he had the others. And he was prepared to say no as many times necessary. He stood by what he said when he agreed with Edelgard; this  _ was _ foolish, and Dimitri wanting to play in the bones of some long-forgotten relic because he had weird dreams was asking for trouble.

"I thought, with you being a historian as well, you would have been excited to uncover a bit of the past."

"Not like you," Felix snapped coldly, "you're chasing a dream that makes no damn sense except to yourself. I don't want any part of that."

"You don't want to see what's there to find?" Annette asked.

"I saw enough of the castle the time we broke in as teenagers." Felix projected an air of disinterest, but something about the sad look on Annette's face made him feel guilty for it. 

"And here I thought you would be all about researching what kind of siege weapons they kept at Castle Blaiddyd and the defenses they used." Sylvain was looking at him, or rather through him. It was a challenge of sorts, daring him to say that he didn't care for these things when everyone at the table knew he did. 

"Fine," he spat, "I am. A little."

"Excellent. So I can tell my boss that you're signing on to the project as well?" 

Fuck Dimitri and fuck that smile he wore.

"I guess. The department probably would have sent me along anyway to make sure you weren't in over your head."

Annette whooped in celebration. That somehow lessened the sting of giving in a little.

* * *

**Edelgard**

They hadn't got back to the apartment fast enough. 

There was something in the air that night, something that made her want for nothing more than Hubert. Hubert on top of her. Inside her. Hubert with his face buried between her legs and worshiping her. 

It only took a look to convey that to him. He was always so perceptive. So when Dimitri began laying blueprints of the castle that he had drawn up from his dreams, Hubert made an excuse up about how they were meeting with his publisher in the morning and they needed their rest. 

He  _ was  _ working on a book, but the publisher only met with him over the phone and video calls. 

Dimitri didn't need to know that, though. 

Hubert started undressing her almost immediately. She liked it when he took his time, seduced her all the way to the bedroom. Or sometimes couch. But tonight was definitely the bedroom. He kissed her temples, her cheeks, lingered on her lips. Some of her lipstick had smeared on his face. She smiled at that.

They found the bedroom, and Hubert continued. He unbuttoned her blouse and let it drop to the floor. She knew he didn't need direction, so she didn't bother guiding his hands to where she wanted him to touch. Hubert knew. 

Edelgard laid down on the bed. She propped herself up on the decorative pillows and watched as Hubert lit the candles and put on some music. Then, he removed his own clothes. He was half-erect already and growing harder still. 

Hubert climbed into the bed with her and finished undressing her. He unzipped her skirt and pulled it down over her legs, never breaking eye contact as he did. Then, her tights. And underwear. Her bra was the last thing left, but she always preferred to do that herself. While he watched, she unclasped it and let it drop to the floor with everything else. 

She made him watch as she touched herself, danced her fingers along her clit. Drilled her index and middle fingers in and out. Edelgard grinned, loving the red of her lipstick smeared on his face and how his cock had sprung to life. 

"Kiss it."

His head dipped between her thighs dutifully, nibbling at her smooth skin all the way up to his prize. Hubert was a man of many skills, but nothing compared to the way he lapped at her clit. 

Hungrily, he sucked on it, nipped at it just enough to make her moan and writhe. 

Edelgard sank her fingers into his hair, pricking his scalp with her nails. Hubert groaned, but made no effort to stop; he loved it. She wrapped her thighs around his head, cinching them around his ears. 

Hubert continued, nibbling, lapping at her, slipping his tongue into her wet folds. Edelgard was in paradise, and so close to finishing. She grappled for tufts of his hair. 

"Oh, fuck. Hubert!"

* * *

Edelgard had used her mouth on Hubert. It wasn't one of her  _ favorite _ positions, but she didn't mind doing it on occasion. Especially as it made him happy. 

They cuddled for a bit after, and then he went to get his laptop from the living room. Book research, she thought. His new novel had been consuming most of his free time. Not that Edelgard minded. After the success of his last book, his publisher gave him a nice advance. That money would go a long way to planning their wedding, not that their families or friends knew they were engaged. 

"Castle Blaiddyd, then?" He was typing something, Edelgard didn't look to see what.

"Pay my brother no mind, he's being foolish."

"So we won't be helping on the restoration project."

Edelgard sighed and reached for her phone off the bedside table. "Unfortunately, we must. As foolish as Dimitri is being, he  _ is _ my brother, and I would never hear the end of it from our parents if I didn't help. Especially after he asked for it." She opened up Twitter with the side of her thumb and began scrolling through her timeline. "Why? Are you interested in helping him? Interested in playing in his little fantasies?"

Hubert hesitated. "My new book, it's going to be about the Ashen Demon."

She gave him a sideways look. "Is it?"

"More of a re-imagining of the folktale, since no one can agree on what she is, exactly." The typing resumed. "I didn't want to say anything at dinner and enable him or, Goddess forbid, give him the idea that we were agreeing to be part of this when I hadn't spoken with you first."

"I appreciate that," the phone was abandoned on the bed, "we're going, so you don't need to curb your enthusiasm too much."

* * *

**Seteth**

The pile of paperwork sat on his desk, untouched. He had meant to file it away two nights ago, after Flayn had brought it to him, stating that one of the historical researchers on the university’s payroll had filled out the appropriate forms to begin a castle restoration project and would need funds allocated to the project. It was a pretty commonplace thing for the university to pay for, whether it was archaeological digs to help flesh out their understanding of their own history or restoration projects on historical landmarks that had fallen through the cracks over the years, Seteth was accustomed to bankrolling them all and helping with hiring professionals to aid their researchers and historians. 

But this project, it left a strange taste in his mouth that he hadn’t been able to wash out. 

Seteth leafed through the paperwork again, pausing to rub the bridge of his nose before grappling for his phone and pausing to check the time. 

Yes, she would be up by now. 

His thumb hit her name in his contact list and he waited. One ring. Two. By the fourth, she answered.

“Rhea,” he said, not bothering with a greeting because this felt far too urgent to him, “why have you agreed to let one of my historians excavate and restore Castle Blaiddyd?”

“Good evening to you too, Seteth.”

He sighed, having forgotten his manners momentarily and feeling ashamed for it. “Yes. Good evening, Rhea, I apologize for my curtness. I had been under the impression that Castle Blaiddyd was to remain untouched. But the paperwork has your signature on it, granting the university government-approved access to the site for the sake of restoration and historical preservation.”

“Yes, I know. I met with one of the historians employed by the university this week and signed them myself.”

Seteth flipped to the part of the document where she had signed to confirm. As plain as day, there it was, the looping signature that could have been no ones except hers. Seteth sighed again. “But, why now? We had agreed-”

“-His resemblance is quite striking. I think that alone would be enough to interest her.”

A pause. “You may be right. Shall I call her and inform her of your decision?”

“That is unnecessary. Will that be all, Seteth?”

“Yes. I think so.”

Rhea hung up and Seteth sat back in his office chair. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what Rhea was up to, signing off on the restoration of the castle when it had been she who demanded that protective measures be taken regarding it. It was especially concerning that she seemingly did not ask the opinion of the one person whom this decision directly impacted. As long as Seteth didn’t have to be the one to tell her or be there when she found out, he supposed it was well enough. 

He couldn’t dwell on the politics regarding their group too long; he still needed to approve of these documents so that the university could allocate the funds in the morning. That and Flayn had informed him that their refrigerator was empty. Seteth didn’t like sending her out on her own, so he needed to hurry and finish his tasks before she got hungry enough to remedy the situation on her own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sylvain**

He had been sitting in his car for 15 minutes, waiting to see if anyone else had arrived yet. Sylvain didn't want to be the first to arrive; it put an unrealistic expectation on him to _always_ be early, to be that dependable sort of guy you could count on. And, he had spent the better part of a quarter of a century making the reputation of a good for nothing womanizer his identity, for better or for worse, so he didn't see the point in changing that any time soon. 

He looked up from a swipe fest on Tinder, noticing Dimitri's black sedan parked about a hundred feet in front of his own car. So, Dimitri _was_ home and Sylvain wouldn't be waiting outside his apartment door. But, being alone with him wasn't any better. He would wait. Wait a little longer until Felix or Ingrid arrived. Let them deal with Dimitri on their own for a little while. 

So, he went back to his phone, looking at girls on Tinder until he noticed anyone else pull up. 

Another ten minutes went by, mostly of Sylvain idly swiping right on anyone and wishing he had stopped to pick up breakfast before leaving that morning. He hadn't even thought to pick up a coffee from one of those chain coffee shops, having convinced himself that Mercedes would have stayed up baking pastries for them to have for breakfast. She was always a considerate one like that, Mercedes. 

Then, a green Jeep with mud caked on the entire lower half of the car pulled up and parked behind Dimitri's. 

Ingrid.

She and Glenn got out of the Jeep and came around to start unloading. Ingrid was dressed in a practical manner, khaki cargo shorts, and dirty hiking boots. She was always sensible. Always dressed for comfort and function, never form. Sylvain had complained about it to Felix when he and Ingrid used to date in university, but he saw now that it suited her better. 

Just like Glenn on her arm suited her better than he ever could have. 

Ingrid waved at him when she noticed him sitting in his car, to which he responded with his own. Well, he couldn't pretend like he wasn't there anymore Sylvain realized and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He headed around his car to the rear passenger door and started pulling some telescopic art tubes from the back seat. 

He had spent the last week working on blueprints for the castle at Dimitri's behest. Sylvain didn't know how he knew the layout of the structure, how his texts had such detailed descriptions when pressed for more information, but he also didn't care enough to question it. The thought of Dimitri doing some cloak and dagger shit, sneaking into city hall or some museum to steal ancient blueprints may have humored him, but it also wasn't like Dimitri. Nor was it like him to charm some young office clerk into giving him the blueprints with nothing more than a smile and a promise to dinner that he had no intention of fulfilling. 

The door to Dimitri's apartment was wide open when Sylvain walked up, which was beneficial, given his juggling of the telescopic tubes. Ingrid and Glenn were already inside by that point; he could hear them talking before even making it through the threshold. He dumped the tubes on the couch, and plopped himself down next to them, offering Ingrid and Glenn a wordless greeting with a wave of his hand. He began searching for the TV remote. 

"Hey, Dimitri, got any coffee?" he called out.

"Just heat up the coffee from yesterday in the microwave." Dimitri was nowhere to be seen, but Sylvain could place him in his office, judging by the source of the voice. 

Sylvain made a face. "I know you can't taste shit, but are you _really_ heating up old coffee in the microwave?"

Ingrid sighed. "Goddess, Sylvain, I'll make a fresh pot of coffee." She put down what she was holding on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen. 

Glenn came and sat beside Sylvain while they waited for coffee. He was a touch shorter than Felix, Glenn, but otherwise, they looked so incredibly similar when they were younger; he imagined their parents could have passed them off as twins. They were different now, the eyes were a little different, and Glenn favored their father a little more heavily, but the similarities were still there. 

"How's work going?" Sylvain asked, trying to fill the silence. 

Glenn stared at the blank TV opposite of them. "We-well-Ingrid convinced a local museum to return some Duscur artifacts. She was really happy about that."

It was simple, matter-of-fact. A very Fraldarius response to a question that could have used more detail in the answer given. Sylvain set his mouth in a hard line and folded his hands between his knees, searching for a subject they could discuss that would fare better.

"Are we just leaving apartment doors open, now?" Felix stepped in through the entryway, brows knit together as he surveyed the room. 

_Thank the goddess._

"I forgot to close it behind me," Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, "how's it going?"

"Miserable. I don't want to be doing this."

"This?" Sylvain repeated.

"Chasing Dimitri's fucking dreams," he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest, "I smell coffee."

"There's some in the kitchen."

"It's not that reheated swill Dimitri drinks, is it?" 

"No, Ingrid made a fresh pot."

Felix nodded, and they both headed into the kitchen to get a cup. 

Ingrid had already laid out what cups she could find in the cabinet, which was about four mugs, and three water glasses. Dimitri wasn't much for entertaining, Sylvain knew. That, and he had the nasty habit of breaking just about everything he touched sooner or later. So, when he grabbed a cup for himself and saw a crack spider webbing at the join between cup and handle, he was unsurprised. Sylvain carefully picked it up, mindful of the handle, and poured himself a cup. 

"Got any creamer in here?" He asked, opening the fridge to find it barren except for two ready-made meals from one of those meal prep services he kept seeing ads for on social media, some loose vegetables and fruits that seemed about a day from turning, a quarter of a gallon of milk, and a few varieties of cheese. Sylvain pulled the milk out, then headed for a cabinet, only to be greeted by a package of cookies, three boxes of macaroni and cheese, and a container of protein powder. 

"Four Saints, how is he even alive?" Ingrid asked, surveying the contents of the kitchen with Sylvain. 

Felix filled up one of the water glasses with coffee and headed back into the living room without a second thought. 

Sylvain poured a little of the milk into his cup when Dimitri came into the kitchen. He looked like he had been pulling an all-nighter, with heavy bags under his eyes and his skin pale and sallow. Still, he offered a greeting nonetheless, thanked Ingrid for making the coffee, and poured his own cup. Then, unceremoniously, went into the cabinet Sylvain had just been in, pulled the protein powder from the cabinet, and dumped two scoops into his coffee. 

"What the fuck, Dimitri?" Sylvain cursed, watching as he dug through the drawer next to the sink for a spoon to stir it.

"The vegetables are about to turn," he explained sheepishly, "I would have made a smoothie if they hadn't."

"With the coffee and protein power too?"

Dimitri didn't say anything. 

Sylvain and Ingrid followed him into the living room. 

He had just joined the others when the door swung open and Annette came in. She was balancing a box of _something_ in one arm and carrying a large iced coffee drink with whipped cream and some sort of sweet drizzle in her free hand.

"Good morning, everyone!" She sing-songed, closely followed by Mercedes, who was also carrying a box in her arms. 

Mercedes was juggling a box, as well as her purse and another bag that Sylvain didn't recognize. Still, she was struggling, so he made his way over to her and grabbed the box from her. 

"Here, I got it."

"Thank you, Sylvain."

"What's in all these boxes?" He asked, not taking a peek inside. 

"Pastries. I was up late baking so we could have breakfast this morning." Mercedes gave him a gentle smile. 

"You are goddess-sent, you know that, Mercie?"

Her smile didn't falter. "You say that to all the women, Sylvain."

He gave her a look of feigned hurt and placed the box on the coffee table. Already, he was picking out which one he wanted. Sylvain settled on something that looked like a turnover, but with a peach compote filling. Some of the others grabbed one as well. Annette chose a chocolate-cherry turnover for herself, and Dimitri grabbed a cheese danish. Ingrid had taken two, though Sylvain hadn't watched long enough to discern which.

Dimitri quickly ate, and when he was done, he addressed the group. "So, today is our first day at Castle Blaiddyd. I was thinking it would be mostly a walkthrough day, assessing the damage done to it, and getting an idea of how to proceed. I've been in touch with contractors all week, so we will have plenty of help in the endeavor."

"No Dedue or Ashe today," asked Mercedes, "and I thought your sister and Hubert would be joining as well?"

"They will be meeting us at the castle. I had already briefed Dedue on my plans for today last night, and Ashe needed to turn in a paper to one of his professors this morning. They will be there, rest assured."

Sylvain noticed that he conveniently left out his conversation with Edelgard, though he figured it was to avoid rehashing what was likely an argument. No one had been more opposed to this endeavor than she had, and she wasn't shy about telling everyone. 

He stretched and set his hands on his knees. "It sounds like you have the whole thing figured out. So, why are we still here when we could be at the castle?"

* * *

**Ashe**

He had been running late that morning. First, his phone did one of those automatic update things in the middle of the night while he was sleeping, causing the alarm he set to get turned off in the process. Ashe had woken 45 minutes later than he wanted. Then, when he tried to print his paper to give his professor a hard copy, he was out of paper and had to rush to the campus library to print it. He had emailed the professor a copy of the paper, but Ashe wanted to be sure, _extra_ sure he handed it in. 

On his way out of his professor's office, he fished his phone out of his jeans front pocket and dialed Dimitri's number. It rang twice before he answered.

"Dimitri speaking."

"Ah, sorry, Dimitri! This is Ashe! I...I'm just leaving campus now, but I need to stop by my apartment to pick some things up."

"That's fine, Ashe, we're just heading to the castle now. You can meet up with us then."

"Still, I should have been on time. I feel like I let everyone down."

"Really, it's fine. But, do you know how to get to the castle? I could stop by your apartment and pick you up if you would like."

"No! ...No. It's fine. Dedue and I drove up there a few days ago to familiarize ourselves with the area. I think I can manage."

Ashe hung up the phone and pocketed it. 

At home, he made a bee-line for his computer and various composition notebooks he had scattered across his dining table. He pushed aside his empty takeout containers from the previous night, which he had yet to clean up because he fell asleep on the couch before he had a chance and paused. Quickly, he scooped them up and disposed of them in the trash and returned to what he was doing. 

He made a neat pile of his notebooks, then he went into the bedroom to retrieve his messenger bag from his armchair. 

Ashe tossed a couple of his composition books into his bag before stopping to inspect one closer; they all looked the same, simple black marbled cover with no writing to indicate what they were for. And that was well enough because they were mostly his folklore research, but this one…

He flipped to a random page and saw a soup recipe he had gotten from one of the local restaurants. "Ah," he flipped a couple of pages while he thought out loud, "I suppose I could bring this to share with Dedue, though." The notebook ended up in his bag. 

* * *

There was no parking lot near the castle, no road that he could parallel park on. Everything was dirt roads until a point, then open grass fields. The line of cars parked in a particularly sparse area of brush indicated to him where to drive. He parked next to Annette's car and grabbed his things. 

Ashe had to jog to catch up. They were already on their way up to the castle, he could see them several hundred yards ahead of him, far enough that they might not hear if he shouted, but close enough that he could close the gap at his pace. 

"Sorry I'm late!" He said upon catching up with the others. 

"No worries, Ashe!" Annette smiled. 

They were almost to the castle, Ashe observed while stepping over a particularly large outcropping. He had seen it from a distance, down in Fhirdiad. But here, up close, it was truly imposing, the sort of place where ghosts and other nasty horror movie monsters lived. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled the strap of his messenger bag closer to his chest.

"You're doing research on the local folklore," said Hubert in a loaded manner, "what can you tell us about Castle Blaiddyd?"

"Oh, where would I start? Hm…" Ashe considered his angle carefully, "I suppose the Hero-King Blaiddyd is what everyone wants to know about. Some historians still disagree on whether he was a real man, or just a legend meant to instill morals into children, though the presence of Castle Blaiddyd lends some weight to the stories."

"But it's been privately owned for centuries and there have been legal battles regarding whether the castle could be excavated for historical preservation purposes." Dimitri added.

Ashe nodded. "Right."

"Why were you able to get it, then?" Hubert's tone was biting, causing Ashe to take several steps toward someone-anyone to put some distance between them. 

"I...I don't know. I called around a lot, and they were going to tell me, no, but then the person I was talking to gave me her supervisor's number, and she gave me the go-ahead if the university would secure the funds."

"Weren't we talking about the history of the castle?" Asked Felix.

They were at the front gate by then, if it could be called that. All and all, it was a 15-foot high rusted chain link fence with barbed wire and private property signs hanging off it. It appeared to be serviced regularly, despite the rust from what Ashe could tell; parts of the chain link were newer, obviously replaced when older parts became too rusted, or rowdy teens had managed to cut a hole in it to break in. 

Dimitri fished a key out of his pants pocket and started undoing the padlock that kept the gate shut. 

"Right, King Blaiddyd. Historians believed he died young, likely mid-twenties if he was a real person. All of his legends take place during his adolescence or early adult years."

With the gate opened, they all stepped into the courtyard. Some of the buildings were still fairly intact, with walls that were a bit crumbled and some collapsed roofs, but he imagined it would be quick work to repair those sorts of structures. Others...it was hard to figure what they must have been when the castle was a home. They walked past a particularly weathered wall that had been desecrated with some vulgar graffiti. Ashe frowned at it and pushed onward. 

"I don't anticipate we will get much in the way of work done today," started Dimitri once they were at the entranceway proper, "I want to do a quick walkthrough, assess the damage, see which parts of the castle need the most repair work and what needs to be done structurally before moving on with other tasks. I imagine parts of the castle are completely inaccessible at the moment and will need to be cleaned of rubble and debris before we can get into them, but that will be handled at a later date."

There was a hum of approval from the group, and Dimitri pushed into the castle. 

Ashe couldn't believe his eyes when they stepped in. He hadn't known what he expected of the castle, but this was not it. All things considered, the grand entryway was in good shape. It was probably something of a spectacle back in its prime, he imagined. Now, there was a lot of litter on the ground from people who had broken in, and furniture that was in surprisingly good shape given its age. There were some large rectangular objects concealed under white fabric propped up against the side of the grand staircase, which looked a bit precarious and would need repair work before Ashe would feel secure walking up them. 

"What's that?" Asked Edelgard, pointing to the concealed objects.

"I don't know, but I get the feeling it's a painting." Chirped Annette excitedly, already heading over to take a look. 

"Careful. It's likely very old and fragile." Glenn was very visibly on edge watching the spectacle. At his word, Ingrid joined Annette and began delicately peeling back the cloth with her.

Annette had been right; the object was, in fact, a framed painting. Ashe couldn't see the subject of it from his angle, only the frame, so when the others headed over to get a look, he did as well.

"Wow, she's very pretty." Annette cooed, looking at the painting.

Time had rendered the painting filthy, but the subject was still clear enough to make out. The woman in the painting, she was lovely, with green hair and eyes to match. Her features were delicate and welcoming, but her eyes, those were the odd thing, they were this steely gaze lacking much in the way of emotion that he felt both uneasy and captivated by. Like she was staring into his soul. 

And, he couldn't help but feel like he should know her or at least recognize the painting.

"I think I saw this painting somewhere." Ingrid said. She cupped her chin in her palm while she searched her brain for an answer to why she recognized it.

"Yeah, you're right. I feel like I've seen this painting somewhere," Annette looked just as puzzled while she worked on the same mystery, "I would like to restore this if it's alright."

Dimitri had been busily taking pictures of the staircase and paying them no mind but headed over when the rest of them were talking of the painting and agreeing that this was something they knew. He stopped several paces behind Felix, transfixed. Ashe had never seen him like that before. He took a few slow steps forward, and, when he was close enough, placed both hands on the frame. 

"This is her castle." He said, voice barely above a whisper. 

"What do you mean by that?" Dedue asked.

He wasn't looking up from the painting, and something about Dimitri's sudden focus on it made Ashe nervous. 

"Byleth didn't like this painting. She hated that it hung in the entrance hall for all to see. The day it was painted, she had gone out riding, but got caught in the rain. She got mud all over her dress, but refused to change, so she told the painter to omit the muddy bits."

Dimitri had spoken like he was recalling a memory that he had lost until that moment. He hadn't taken his eyes from it the entire time, speaking to the woman more than he had to them. Ashe's stomach dropped; something in Dimitri's tone didn't sound wholly Dimitri.

Ashe knew of the rumors of ghosts in Castle Blaiddyd. He uncovered quite a few while doing research for his thesis, even. Ghosts and the supernatural were always things that put him on edge and made him want nothing more than the safety of his home and a warm mug of tea. Ashe didn't even like scary stories, and Dimitri's tone was too reminiscent of all of those horror movies where someone got possessed by a spirit or demon for his liking. 

"What the fuck are you going on about? Who is Byleth?" Felix crossed his arms, bored.

As nervous as Ashe was, something clicked for him then. Byleth. He knew that name.

"She is," he said, swallowing his fear to give an explanation, "there are stories of King Blaiddyd having a wife-Byleth-but most historians who write on the subject believe that she was purely a work of fiction, that poets added her into Blaiddyd's tale to make them something more romantic and about courtly love. Because the castle had never been excavated, no grave or remains of King Blaiddyd or Byleth have ever been found. Maybe we'll end up proving the stories true."

"They also say that Lady Byleth is the Ashen Demon," Hubert sounded about two seconds from doing a villain laugh like in the cartoons, "occult researchers believe it’s her who haunts the castle, looking for her dead husband's remains. Others believe she's a demon who takes Lady Byleth's form."

"Oh, I know that story," Mercedes clapped her hands together, "she lures unsuspecting humans to their doom by looking like the queen who used to live in the castle. One of those ghost hunting shows I watch did a special on her."

Ashe fell back a few steps. "Can we...can we stop talking about ghost stories?"

"Annette, could you restore this?" Dimitri’s voice cut through the conversation, making Ashe grateful for the change of topic, no matter how ominous he had been. Whatever hold the painting had on Dimitri had loosened. He was speaking normally, his eye no longer glassy and far away. 

"Yeah, of course. I didn't say that? I thought I said that."

"I...you may have. Yes. Yes, you did," Dimitri shuffled a little, "we should probably move on."

* * *

**Ingrid**

Most of the day had been spent in the castle. They had done a sweeping tour of the whole thing, at least, the parts that they could reach. Dimitri had been right in thinking parts of the castle would be inaccessible due to damage. At its current state, the tomb was unable to be reached, which was a bit frustrating. Ingrid had wanted to see it firsthand, to have them credited with the discovery of King Blaiddyd's tomb. Or, to prove once and for all that he _didn't_ exist and the fairy tales were just that. 

It was about half an hour until sunset when she and Glenn finally made it back to the Jeep so they could head home. She was starving, enough that her stomach was grumbling loud enough for Glenn to hear it. He hadn't commented, but he had given her a look that confirmed he knew she wanted food urgently. 

"What do you think of the castle?" She said, slipping the key into the ignition and starting it. Ingrid waited a bit before pulling out, giving the others a chance to leave before they had. She had far too much on her mind and wanted to talk a little about it before diverting her attention to the drive home.

Glenn pursed his lips while he considered his words. "I think this is a lot to take on."

Ingrid nodded once. "Do you think we can handle it?"

" _You_ can handle anything," he afforded her a weak smile, "but yeah. It will take a few years to finish it completely."

Ingrid pulled out of the grassy field after Dedue. She focused on the road, not even bothering with turning on the radio or maintaining conversation, though her mind wandered back to the castle. There was something about it, a feeling she just couldn't seem to shake. Like, she should recognize it. Like she had been there beyond the time she, Sylvain, Felix, and Dimitri had gone there as teenagers. 

And then there was the painting of that woman-Byleth. They hadn't spoken much of the painting beyond their initial reactions to it, but Ingrid got the impression that everyone was a bit unsettled by it. She had exchanged a series of looks with Annette over it, and while Ingrid was no mind reader, she got the distinct impression that they both recognized the woman in it and were unnerved by Dimitri's behavior while looking at it.

"It's a little weird that we all recognized the woman in the painting," Ingrid started, taking a tone to denote a funny coincidence, not the creeping unease spreading through her, "we probably saw that painting in a textbook and forgot."

"I didn't recognize her," there was a pregnant pause in his train of thought that caused her stomach to drop, "maybe our art history courses required different textbooks and studied different topics though."

"Yeah."

The air between them had gone stale and uncomfortable, so much so that Ingrid began fussing with the radio to have something to drown out the silence. She settled on a top 40's station currently playing some collaborative love song between a famous DJ and a pop singer. She recognized the song, purely because of the oversaturation it got on the radio, but did not know it.

"Hey, Ingrid, let's pick up dinner tonight instead of cooking. It's been a long day."

That was the first thing she heard since they got to the castle that put a smile on her face. 

* * *

**Annette**

The sun was starting to set and already, some of them were starting to pack up and leave. Ingrid and Glenn had left half an hour ago, and after them, others began slowly heading out. Annette wanted to continue exploring; there were mysteries in the castle that she just couldn't wait to delve into. She wanted to stay late, later than Mercedes' yawning, and hinting about needing to make dinner would have allowed. And since they had taken Annette's car that morning, it meant she couldn't stay.

"Are you planning on staying later?" Mercedes sleepily asked of Dimitri who, like Annette, was showing no signs of slowing down. 

Since the discovery of the painting, he had been something in a fervor, leading them through the accessible bits of the castle and giving his theories about what he believed they had once been used for. Annette appreciated that enthusiasm, but there was something strange about it that she couldn't quite place a finger to. The same way as she couldn't quite figure why the woman in the painting was so familiar to her. 

"Yeah, I think so." Dimitri said.

Edelgard made a face that Annette wasn't so sure was meant to be a secret. 

"I wish I could stay too. There were a _ton_ of paintings under more sheets that I would have liked to look at today." She groused, though without the conviction needed to dissuade Mercedes.

"It's fine, Annette. I'll drive Mercedes home. You stay and look at paintings of dead ladies," Sylvain gave her a playful wink, "just be sure to text me pictures if any of them are cuties."

Dimitri bristled, though didn't say anything. 

"Really? I mean, if Mercie is okay with it."

Mercedes waved a hand as if to tell Annette not to worry herself. "It's fine. I don't mind riding with Sylvain."

Annette pumped her fist happily. "Ooooh! I'm so excited! Who else is staying?"

There was a dull murmur among the group. Ashe already had his messenger bag slung over his shoulder and keys tucked neatly into his palm. He and Dedue had been talking about checking out some restaurant that had only opened about a month ago before the question was posed, so she knew they were leaving. Mercedes was leaving, that much was a given, and Sylvain was helping her with gathering the things she brought into the castle to get out of there quicker. That left Edelgard and Hubert. 

"We should probably get going," said Edelgard as if she had read Annette’s thoughts and she touched a hand to Hubert's shoulder for emphasis, "Hubert has a deadline to meet."

Dimitri nodded. "Will you be at dinner with mother and father this weekend?"

She paused. "I don't know. It depends on how busy both of us are."

"Well, you should call them to let them know ahead of time if you can't make it. Mother made your favorite last week." Despite the scolding nature of his words, Annette could tell he was only teasing. 

Edelgard folded her hands over her chest, frowning. From the way everyone had suddenly made themselves very absent and very quickly, Annette knew was about to get heated. 

"I'm an adult. I don't need you breathing down my neck about checking in with our parents."

Annette didn't want to take part in a sibling argument, so she fished her phone out of her jacket pocket and began pretending like she was busy texting someone so she could appear busy and avoid the conflict. A couple of the others were doing the same or shuffled out of the castle even more quickly to prevent themselves from being dragged into it.

Eventually, Edelgard and Hubert left, leaving her, Felix, and Dimitri in the castle. She slipped her phone back into her pocket, no longer requiring it.

"Are you staying too, Felix?" She asked.

Felix's brows knit together as he shifted his gaze between her and Dimitri, "There's no way you two are going to get any work done around here without some help. I feel obligated to stay."

She smiled. Felix looked at his feet. 

"Great! I could use some help uncovering some of these paintings! I want to see what else is here."

Before Felix got to work helping her, he and Dimitri stepped outside to set up the diesel-powered generator that Dimitri had brought up to the castle two days ago. Once that was done, the three of them took the construction lights he had also brought up with him and set those up in the grand entrance hall. They were losing light and quickly, so if they wanted to continue to work, it was more a necessity than a desire. 

There were more paintings throughout the castle she had seen during their initial walkthrough that had been left untouched, which is where Annette started. Felix and Dimitri had headed down the corridor, likely so that Felix could tell him some more about how restoring the castle was a bad idea. While she was alone, she worked on uncovering the paintings and sang a little song to herself.

" _Paintings, paintings on the wall._

_Lining all the dusty halls._

_Splash of colors, pops of light!_

_Bringing all the dead to life!_

_Paintings of the King and Queen._

_Paintings that the world should see."_

"How would colors and light bring the dead to life?"

Annette jumped at the sound of the voice, losing her grip on the sheet. She whipped around, knowing it was Felix listening beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Felix," she howled, "you're evil, scaring me like that!"

Felix didn't move from his position at the mouth of the corridor; his moth was upturned in a slight smile, and the smugness of that made her angry "You didn't answer the question."

Annette advanced a few steps in his direction. Her fingernails jutted into the fleshy part of her palms. She ignored the pain. "Because paintings are a way to preserve a moment! So it's like they're still alive!" She sighed heavily as punctuation. 

"But a painting doesn’t preserve them. It's just a static moment in time that no one alive would remember."

"If you're going to criticize my singing, you can just leave!" She was growing increasingly frustrated with the exchange and wanted to be alone with the paintings again.

"I wasn't criticizing your singing, I was just curious about the logic." Felix, as always, was cool and composed, which only served to frustrate Annette even more. 

She stormed off, back towards a collection of covered paintings in an attempt to stem herself. Annette sucked a breath in through her teeth and started grabbing for the sheets covering them, but found the weight of it too heavy and the thick layer of dust covering it a hindrance. Annette had breathed some of it in when she made to yank some of the sheets away, resulting in a heavy chest cough. She drew away, wiping her eyes because some of it got in them as well. 

"Are you alright?" 

Felix was at her side by the time her eyes stopped watering. He looked concerned, which struck her as odd when only a moment ago, he was ribbing her for her song. 

"I'm fine." She said hoarsely. 

He looked her over once her coughing had stopped. "I guess I should probably help you." With Felix's help, they began peeling back the sheets on each of the paintings that had rested against the walls of the entrance hall. 

For all the time they must have been sitting in the castle, left alone to the elements, Annette noticed that they were in great condition, albeit dirty, and seemingly well-loved by _someone_. Whom, she hadn't the faintest idea. There were some landscapes in this bunch, which Annette would stop to explain the various techniques she believed were used to paint them to a bored-looking Felix. However, he hadn't complained about her explanations when normally he wasn't so shy with voicing his distaste in that sort of thing, so she took it to mean he was at least a little interested.

Mixed in with the bunch, there were some more paintings of Lady Byleth. Lady Byleth in different dresses, in different chairs. Lady Byleth lounging on a couch with a cape and furs wrapped around her that appeared much too large for her figure while maintaining eye contact with the viewer.

"This one's a little saucy," Annette explained, gesturing to the one of Lady Byleth in the furs, "look at how she's wearing men's clothes while maintaining eye contact with the viewer."

Felix said nothing, but his eyes remained locked on the painting a little longer before looking elsewhere. "You and Ingrid said you think you saw some of these paintings before."

Annette stopped to consider how to explain it. "Yeah. It was kinda like Deja Vu or something. I have no memory of ever seeing it until I saw it."

With the toe of his shoe, Felix kicked away a bit of rubble. "Deja Vu. I think I've experienced something similar with the paintings."

The subject was an uncomfortable one for Annette; she imagined it had to be worse for Felix. He wasn't a talkative sort of person, and she knew he didn't place much stock in things like deja vu. It was probably for the best to change the subject. "We have one more painting to uncover." She gestured for one last painting, which was larger than the rest, though inconspicuously tucked behind some rubble. She probably wouldn't have noticed it if not for their tour of the castle earlier. 

They grabbed the sheets like before and began peeling it back. With Felix's help, they managed to kick up less dust than before. 

The sheets dropped away, and Annette was fixed on it. Her breath hitched and her blood ran cold. Despite the pit in her stomach, she couldn't take her eyes from it. Something about it was just so uncanny. So terrifying despite its lack of anything to make her feel that way. "Felix?" Her voice quivered.

"I see it." 

Annette fumbled with her words, mouth dry, and unable to form thoughts together when Dimitri's voice from the other room stole her attention.

"Wait! I only want to talk!" 

It was a howl that rang through the corridor, followed by the pounding of his feet against the stone, growing fainter as he headed deeper into the castle. The pair of them looked to each other, then down the corridor, concerned.

"That's Dimitri. Who is he talking to?" 

"That doesn't sound good. Let's go check on him."

They walked down the hall toward the source of Dimitri's voice. Annette's heart was pounding. Something about this had instilled a sense of fear in her which she couldn't explain. She didn't ask Felix if he felt the same, though she assumed he had, given the concern he was paying and his tense stature.

Dimitri wasn't in the room Felix had left him in, but they had figured as much and were able to track his movements toward an entrance he had described as a servant's entrance during their earlier tour of the place. Everything was dark, given they hadn't brought the construction lights to this particular location in the castle. He had left the door open when he exited, and Annette had made to follow him out, but Felix held his arm in front of her as if to protect her.

"I'll go first."

Felix walked through the door first. Annette followed several paces behind while she attempted to look over his shoulder. It was very dark, and Felix was taller than her, so it was hard to get a good look at the scene, but she could make out Dimitri's figure standing several yards away. He was facing a crumbled wall, so she couldn't get a good look at his face, but his shoulders were squared, alert.

"Who are you screaming at?" Asked Felix. He took a few steps forward. There was an odd sort of concern in his tone when Annette had known him to be particularly snippy with Dimitri in the past.

Dimitri turned to face them, expression blank for a split second before it shifted. He took a few steps toward them. "Someone broke in."

"Really? Why would someone break in when they could see we were all here?" Annette wasn't sure if she believed him, but she wasn't in the mood to argue. Her main concern was getting him back inside and making sure he was okay.

Dimitri shrugged. "No idea. But it's getting late. We should probably pack the lights up and head out."

"Yeah," Felix crossed his arms over his chest, "we'll head in and take the lights down. You should make sure the person you saw left the premises."

Dimitri nodded, and they headed back in.

Annette made her way back to the painting they had uncovered earlier. Felix had started to gather the lights from the space but was drawn to it as well. They both stared down at it, a weighty silence descending on them that caused Annette’s stomach to tighten.

"What do you think we should do about it?" She asked.

Felix frowned. "Cover it back up for now. It'll just upset the others to see it. We’ll figure out what to do later."

He walked away, and Annette took one last look at the painting. Lady Byleth was seated in a chair in what looked to be a wedding dress; the painting was quite dirty and it was difficult to tell if it was in the traditional wedding colors for the time, but she knew enough of wedding paintings to hazard a guess towards that. A man stood behind her with his hand rested on her shoulder. Her left hand was clasped over his, making their wedding bands that much more obvious. It was a happy painting, Annette figured, but the alarming part was the man himself. Nothing about him was particularly odd from an outsider’s perspective. He was handsome, and unlike Lady Byleth, who maintained eye contact with the viewer as was customary across all the paintings of her, his gaze was trained on her. 

She started slipping the sheet back over it, but she couldn’t help but take one last glance at the man in the painting, the man who looked just like Dimitri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating some of the tags on this fic because my initial outline changed over the week since I posted the first chapter, and that change is big enough to warrant a tag change.
> 
> [You can find me on Twitter.](https://www,twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some talk of character death and blood this chapter, but nothing graphic.

**Mercedes**

She looked through her things once more and made a mental checklist. Keys, medical supplies, purse, tote of snacks. Yep, that was everything. Mercedes smiled and checked the stove. Shut off, just like she suspected. Still, better safe than sorry. The last thing she needed was for her or Annette to come home to fire because Mercedes forgot to shut the stove off that morning. She gathered her bags and headed out of the apartment and to her car.

Annette had been leaving early for the castle every day for the past month. Lots to do, she would say over dinner as she hummed one of her cheerful, nonsensical songs. The construction crew had helped with clearing away a lot of debris and rubble, making parts of the castle that had been deemed inaccessible accessible. They still didn't have access to the tomb, which was a shame; Mercedes was hanging on every word of Annette's when she would talk about the parlors, the paintings, and how work was going, but she would have loved to hear if King Blaiddyd and Lady Byleth had actually been real people.

They hadn't begun the restoration work in earnest, though, mainly just the cleanup. So, everyone was not necessary on the site every day.

As it was, Mercedes was not needed too much for the cleaning bit. Heavy machinery was brought in to clear away large bricks and stones, which made it near impossible for her to lend any sort of assistance. Which was something she was grateful for; she didn't mind doing everyday household cleaning, but carrying large stones was not to her liking. 

That day, however, she had been asked to assist at the site. 

So, she double-checked that she had everything with her, and she locked up the cottage she and Annette rented. 

She ad to use her phone's GPS to get to the castle, which only took her to the nearest town. From there, she needed to rely on memory alone, and that was the difficult part.

Mercedes managed to get about half an hour out of town when she realized she was lost. For a while, she thought she was on the right track, but things started to go from vaguely familiar to not familiar at all. And she could no longer see the castle in her periphery. And she most definitely did not remember the dairy farm whose driveway she eventually pulled into. 

With a heavy sigh, she turned off the GPS and called Sylvain. 

"Mercedes," he purred, having answered the phone on the second ring, "what a pleasure, getting to hear your lovely voice so early in the morning."

"Please, Sylvain," she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, "Dimitri asked me to come help at the castle today, but Annette left early because she had an early meeting with her boss, so I needed to drive myself. I think I'm lost."

There was a momentary pause, then, "I'm on my way. Text me the address of where you're at." 

Before she dropped the call, Mercedes could hear Sylvain calling for someone, not that she cared too much about that. For the time being, she needed to find an address for the dairy farm.

* * *

It took Sylvain just under an hour to arrive at the dairy farm Mercedes was parked in front of. 

She occupied that time left waiting with switching radio stations, only to eventually turn it off completely when she decided to shut the car off and preserve the battery and gas. When she did that, she resorted to her phone to watch baking videos on YouTube. 

Eventually, Sylvain's flashy sports car came rolling down the dirt road at an alarming speed. He pulled into the driveway beside her. Mercedes joined him when he got out of the car.

"Are you okay?" 

Those were the first words he said to her as his eyes studied her. His hands quivered in a way that made her think he wished to reach out for her, but he was restraining himself. She didn't feel like she was on display, like the way she saw Sylvain study other women. No, this was a look of concern. Mercedes had never seen him look at anyone that way, no less her. Something about that felt intimate and foreign. Her heart gave a powerful thud; she chose to ignore it. 

"I'm fine, I only got lost." She pushed her previous thoughts from her mind and gave him a gentle smile.

"Okay, good. I was afraid something might have happened to you." His somber look continued for a moment, then, like a switch was flipped, his expression shifted to his usual flirty smirk.

"Let me be your guide, pretty lady."

Mercedes rolled her eyes, though her smile did not falter. 

* * *

"Where is everyone else?" 

Mercedes walked into the entrance hall a pace behind Sylvain, who was determined to do something of a tour for her. She told him that it was unnecessary, that she had seen the castle their first day on the job. But, he insisted, seemed excited, even, to show her how hard they had been working on the restoration. So, she held her tongue the second time around. 

"Dimitri's meeting with some contractors to go over plans to start the rebuild. It's sounding like we'll be able to start some of the masonry tomorrow if the weather allows. Pretty sure Edelgard's with him. Or rather, they're bickering while the contractors watch. Annette's back at the university with some of the paintings. They shipped all of the ones we found up there to be restored. I haven't seen Felix in a couple hours, but he's around. Somewhere. Ashe had class and couldn't make it, and Dedue's in his car going through his various plant books and sketching out plans for the grounds."

"So where does that leave us?" She hoisted her medical bag onto her shoulder a little more securely. 

Sylvain wiggled his eyebrows provocatively at her. 

Mercedes ignored it. 

"You break my heart, Mercie, you really do," he joked, "but for real, since we're actually going to start construction work soon, Dimitri thought it would be necessary to have you on-site at least a few days a week in case we have any accidents. We have a medical tent set up for you in the courtyard right now, and when the weather starts to turn, there was talk of you getting a proper trailer with a real HVAC system so that you can kiss our wounds in comfort."

Mercedes giggled, "I don't know how much kissing will be going on, but I appreciate the comfort part."

"C'mon, I'll help you get your stuff set up."

Sylvain led her back out to the courtyard, though they took a turn from the main area, down a path constructed of dirt with haphazard stones placed here or there for variety. Occasionally, Sylvain would offer his hand to help her over sections where it may have been a bit uneven. This concerned Mercedes, of course. Not Sylvain's help, which she was grateful for. The path. With it being so uneven, it could be an issue with getting injured people to her.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," she started, placing a hand to the castle wall for support, "but this path is rather dangerous. We should probably have it cleared out before anyone has to be brought to me."

"Yeah," Sylvain agreed, voice soft, yet oddly far away, "I remember you had a hard time the last time we visited as well."

"Huh? I don't know what you mean."

"You don't remember? It was the anniversary of Miklan's death, and you suggested that we get out of Gautier territory for a couple of weeks to push the memory from our minds. So we came to Fhirdiad and stayed with Dimitri. You scolded him the third night because you wanted to visit the garden, but the stones hadn't been set properly and you were worried the knights might get hurt."

Mercedes stopped.

Sylvain's words made absolutely no sense. Miklan, dead? She thought he had gone to prison for armed robbery. Knights? Dimitri's castle? She couldn't even begin to unpack the implications he was making about their relationship. Mercedes had hoped this was another one of Sylvain's jokes, that he was going to turn around and wink and tell her she was beautiful so that she could roll her eyes at him and continue on as nothing had happened. 

He took a few more steps, then turned when he realized she was no longer beside him.

"Miklan died," Mercedes asked, voice weak, "I thought he was in prison?"

Sylvain's amiable face soured, it was the sort of dark expression that always scared her a little when she saw him wear it. "Yeah, he is. But why are you talking about Miklan? He's a piece of shit and you shouldn't concern yourself with him."

"You brought him up." She took a step backward.

The anger had drained from his face, making way for something more akin to confusion. He whispered something to himself that she couldn't make out and, like before, his face shifted back into its usual queasy smirk. "Let's not worry about that. I'll show you to your palatial medical tent now," and gestured her on with a nod of his head. 

* * *

**Hubert**

With his phone clutched tight in his palm, Hubert set off into the castle unsupervised. He didn't want to trouble Edelgard with his own business, not when she had her own things to overlook in regards to the castle. Before he turned on his recording app, however, he texted Edelgard.

_ Let me know if you need anything. _

She had been meeting with the various contractors since they arrived. Or rather, since the contractors arrived. She needed to go over the various zoning permits with them; the firm she worked at with her step father had written a comprehensive list of which they would need, and she made it her personal mission to notify the contractors, as well as her step brother, about these things. Edelgard had always been an early riser; she wanted to start the day as soon as possible instead of wasting it away in bed. So, Hubert made sure each night that their coffee pot was ready and the timer was set in case the next day was that rare morning when they struggled to wake.

He set off down one of the upstairs corridors, alone. Hubert had wanted to look at the paintings some more, hopeful to glean some inspiration from Lady Byleth's likeness. But, he had seen the other guys loading the lot of them into a trailer. When Hubert asked Annette about it, she said the plan was to bring them up to the university in Fhirdiad to be restored. In hindsight, it made sense to do the restorative work in a lab with the appropriate equipment, but he couldn't help but be a little frustrated that he needed to change plans, especially as he felt the odd sense of familiarity to Lady Byleth, though he had kept that fact to himself.

"I had initially wanted to inspect some of the paintings of Lady Byleth to get some inspiration, but they were taken off-site for restoration, so I've decided to do a solo walkthrough of the castle," he said into his phone. 

He often took his notes like that, recording them on his phone to listen to later and compile into neater notes in Word documents on his laptop. Back in his days as a struggling author, trying to get a book looked at by publishers, he kept his notes separated into organized spiral notebooks. But this, this was a lot better. It kept his and Edelgard's apartment a lot tidier, and they both preferred a neat and tidy living space.

When he looked up from his phone, he saw he was in a series of corridors that Dimitri had theorized to be bedrooms. Hubert hadn't asked him or Edelgard about the restoration beyond anything that could help with his book, and even then, he kept talk of the castle to a minimum; Edelgard was still upset at Dimitri about the whole thing and he would never betray her trust in him by cornering her step brother for details. Hubert didn’t go into any of them. He knew well enough that old places like this were fragile, and he especially didn’t want to be responsible for breaking something when he was nosing around in the name of research.

He pressed record again.

"Still, it's a bit odd. The castle appears to be repaired in some places, and derelict in others. The contractor Edelgard met with yesterday said he thinks the collapse of the tomb seemed almost intentional, while what we assume to be the royal suites is in fantastic condition, given the suspected age of the castle."

His thumb hit the stop button and he patted his jacket pocket, feeling around for his cigarettes and lighter. When he felt the lump they created in his pocket, he eased a little. Hubert wouldn't smoke in the castle; that was just disrespectful to the hard work everyone was putting in. A few more minutes, he promised himself when he looked down at his phone once more and hit record.

"I was thinking of a ghost story for the Ashen Demon novel, but with all these strange occurrences involving the upkeep on the castle and paintings, I may change my angle to vampires. She could have intentionally collapsed the corridors leading to her burial place and kept possessions reminding herself of a time when she was happy and alive in good condition. I should do some research later on vampire lore of the region."

* * *

Hubert took a drag of his cigarette and watched as work continued on. From where he stood, he could see Sylvain helping Mercedes over some debris, no doubt working on finding a spot in her bed. He didn't know Sylvain beyond reputation, but his was one that followed like a dark shadow. Though he supposed he had his own sort of reputation that followed him around as well and it was best to look out for those sorts of things, but place very little stock in them until proven true.

Another drag, and a glance down at his phone for the time. Another text to Edelgard to remind her of the time and her meeting at the firm later with her client. She was usually pretty good at keeping her appointments, but he liked to remind her. Just in case. They would probably be leaving shortly if they planned on getting lunch.

Hubert pocketed his phone. In that time, Dimitri had come out with the contractor. Both were covered in dust and debris from the rebuild. He only paid them a passing glance while they finished up their conversation and Dimitri came over to him.

"El should be out soon. She's just finishing up a walkthrough so she can figure out which zoning permits we need."

He nodded and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “No doubt lecturing someone on the poor job they did at removing some of the debris,” he held the pack out for Dimitri, "cigarette?"

Dimitri shook his head. "I don't smoke."

A heavy silence fell between them while Hubert finished up his cigarette. Dimitri was furiously texting someone on his phone, which he could see through his periphery but otherwise found uninteresting. His interest was more on those paintings, and how he could tie them into his novel. With his deadline closing in, he needed some pages to turn in to his editor.

"I am not the sort to ask favors of my partner's stepbrother, but I would like to see those paintings once more if that would be a possibility." He flicked his spent cigarette to the ground and crushed it under the heel of his boot.

Dimitri hesitated, an eye trained on the cigarette under Hubert's foot. "I don't think Annette could have you in the lab where she works on the restorations, but I could probably ask her to text me some pictures of them."

Hubert hadn't meant to be disrespectful with the cigarette; tossing it was more a force of habit. He picked up the butt and slipped it into his jacket pocket to be disposed of later. 

Dimitri almost instantly eased.

"That could work."

"Is this for your book? About the Ashen Demon?"

Hubert nodded. "Yes. I'm considering changing my concept from her being a ghost to her being a vampire, but I would like some visual references to send my editor since I pitched it as a ghost story."

"Well, I'll see what I can do, then. But why a vampire story, if you don't mind my asking?"

"A moldering castle with paintings of a beautiful woman that were in oddly good condition despite the age. Her final resting place is completely inaccessible in the castle's current state, perhaps concealing the secret that she had risen out of it to prey on the living."

Dimitri laughed nervously. "I don't like vampire stories, but that sounds like it would be interesting for someone who did."

Edelgard stepped out of the castle, checking her phone for something as she had. Her smart suit hadn't a speck of dust on it, though Hubert expected as much from her. She was always careful, always immaculate.

"I'm ready to go, Hubert. We’ll have to stop to pick up lunch for my stepfather as well; Mother just texted to tell me he forgot it again."

* * *

**Byleth**

"What is Rhea doing?"

She had the phone pressed into her ear, waiting for a response. He was completely silent on the other end. Silent except the shuffling of paper. While she waited, she headed to the kitchen. Byleth was famished and would need something to tide her over until later.

"I wish I had an answer for you, Byleth, but I do not." Seteth sounded cold, almost clinical, but she knew better than to take him at only the sound of his voice. Rhea's selling of the castle had been something of a wrench in all of their lives, causing unneeded stress in a time when none of them were prepared for that. She didn’t need him to sound concerned to know he was concerned.

"She sold my castle," Byleth threw the fridge open and pulled out her breakfast, a pint of blood she procured from an acquaintance who didn't ask questions if she didn't; it was cold, but she was desperate and it was her first taste of actual blood in three months, "and she took most of my paintings out of storage."

"You are mad. Understandably so."

"I am. I feel like I should have been consulted on matters regarding  _ my _ castle."

Seteth went silent once more, except for the shuffling of paper, and then, "Have you met with the historian overseeing the restoration?" 

Byleth's mouth went dry. "I have."

She couldn't see him, couldn't get a read on what he was thinking based on his expression, but she didn't need to. That feeling, that unease, it was something that had enveloped them both. Byleth switched her phone over to speaker and began working on the blood. 

For the better part of five years, she had switched over to a mostly blood-free diet as far as they went. That required a strict supplement routine and careful monitoring of her iron intake if it was going to work. It was easier to find food this way and curb the hunger burning at every nerve ending, easier to pretend at the human game, but it was also harder. Harder to remember to buy her supplements, and keep her pantry stocked with the appropriate foodstuffs, to have a supply of infusions on hand if she couldn't get what she needed through food. And sometimes, she just wanted the real thing. 

With the stress of Rhea selling the castle, it was definitely one of those nights where only blood would truly satisfy. 

"So, you and I have the same concern on the matter."

"Mmhm."

"I know this is likely difficult for you, but that is something that has been concerning me as well. I feel it is in all of our best interests if you continue to meet with him, to find out what the connection there is."

"Mm."

"Goodnight, Byleth."

The call dropped, and Byleth finished her breakfast. She hadn't had a chance to explain to Seteth that she had met with the historian, several times, in fact, and they had agreed to dine together that night to discuss matters involving the castle. Byleth threw away the trash she made and fumbled through an attempt to make herself look presentable for their meeting. 

* * *

Dimitri was already seated when Byleth arrived at the restaurant. He was switching between checking his watch and his phone until he spotted her, then he set his phone face down on the table and waved her over, all the while wearing an amiable sort of smile that unnerved her.

"Thank you for waiting." Byleth said and took a seat opposite of him. 

"Thank you for coming," he took a glance down at the menu, "I know it's a little strange, asking someone who broke into the castle I'm restoring out to dinner, but I haven't met anyone who was drawn to it the way I was and wanted to talk."

“It was-is a special place to me, and to someone who was very important to me,” Byleth looked down at the menu, " you mentioned you were drawn to it? I thought you were just doing restoration work on it through the university." Seteth had told her that much, that he was on the university payroll. But his wording made her stomach feel like it was full of worms.

The waiter came by and took their orders. In that natural lull of conversation, she took one of her supplements; the blood from earlier would only last so long. Dimitri paid it no mind, probably thought it to be a medication she needed to take with food. In a sense, it was.

"The university is bankrolling the project, yes. But that wasn’t why I asked to take on this project,” he paused, running his fingers along the tablecloth as he searched for his words, “you may think I sound something of a lunatic, but…"

"Go on." 

If she hadn't been invested in the conversation before, she was now. 

"I've had dreams of the castle since I was a boy. They're...I don't know, they're like I'm living in the castle when it was still in good condition when people still lived and worked in it. My step sister thinks it's a product of my psychosis, but I didn't start experiencing that until later. I've been on a strict therapy and medication regimen since I got diagnosed, but the dreams still continued while the hallucinations haven't."

"That doesn't sound like you're a lunatic. Castle Blaiddyd has always been an important place for me as well, as I mentioned earlier." 

Byleth didn't know what to make of his claims, in truth. Yet, he sounded no more crazy than she had when she called Seteth in a frenzy, insisting that some man who was of a perfect resemblance to her husband was in her castle and calling her by his favored pet names, seemingly only to forget doing so. To her, what he said made more sense than some of the things she knew to be true. 

And then there was the fact that he looked the way he did, spoke the way he did. Made her stomach drop whenever he looked at her.

"I appreciate that, but I feel like I've talked about myself enough. What about you? The castle is of interest to you too. Clearly, if you're risking a breaking and entering charge to explore it."

Byleth chewed on the inside of her cheek, considering her words. "I write history textbooks, and I was working on a unit about King Blaiddyd. I figured it was better to see the castle for myself, up close and personal, so I could get the details right," Byleth wrapped her fingers around her water glass, “I feel like I owe it to that important person to me to do the castle justice.”

"Ha! That's an odd coincidence."

"What is?"

"You being a nonfiction author in history, named after Queen Byleth. And me, a historian named after King Blaiddyd. The castle really was calling out to us both, it seems."

"I suppose so." She drank her water and cast her gaze to her phone on the table.

* * *

Dimitri had walked her out to her after dinner. Byleth wasn't sure what he meant by it outside his claims that he wanted to make sure she made it home safely, but she found the gesture comforting in an odd sort of way that she couldn't quite explain. While she unlocked the door, he cleared his throat, getting her attention once more.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I would like to exchange numbers. You're the only other person who sees Castle Blaiddyd as being as special as I do, and I would like to be able to contact you to tell you how the rebuild is going and have you come to visit the site to see its progress."

Byleth hesitated. She normally didn't make it a habit of passing out her number to men, not unless she needed something from them and it was the only way she knew to get a hold of them. But, there was something in the way that he looked at her with that crystalline gaze like her husband's, smiled warmly at her  _ just _ like her husband would have, it caused cracks to form in the walls she built up. 

She took her phone out of her pocket and opened her contacts list. "Okay, sure. What's the number?"

* * *

**Dedue**

He adjusted his earbuds again, his worn trowel lay abandoned at his knees. Eventually, he would need to get some of those wireless ones; the cords from his current set got in the way just a bit too much while he was gardening or cooking and he feared accidentally cutting them with his knives or on his garden tools. He had yet to ruin a set that way, but the fear was always in the back of his mind, especially with how Dimitri went through electronics like water.

Once Dedue had his earbuds situated, he pressed play on his classical music playlist and finished spreading the fertilizer over the flower beds. Dedue looked down at the flowers when he finished and nodded. The community garden was coming along nicely in the months since he started volunteering there. The flowers, which had been a bit sad and lifeless when he started, were now thriving and vibrant. And the summer vegetables and fruits they had planted were almost ready for harvest. 

Dedue wiped his hands on the rag he kept tucked into his pocket when gardening and then stood up. While he was gathering his tools, the violin concerto he was listening to began to fade out in favor of his ringtone. He dropped the tools in his basket and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Dimitri.

He hit the accept button with the side of his thumb. "Dedue speaking."

"Dedue. How is your day going?"

"Good. I am at the community garden right now. How are you?"

"Good. I have a favor to ask of you, but if you're busy-"

"-I was on my way home. What do you need?"

"I met with that woman who was breaking into the castle last month, and she's a nonfiction author doing research on the castle. I was wondering if you could do a sort of sketch or mock-up of what you think the castle gardens will look like once completed so that I could show her my vision."

Dedue pursed his lips and considered his words carefully; he trusted Dimitri, but he hadn’t known anything about this strange woman beyond what he had been told. "Is it wise to get a woman who broke into the castle so involved in this project?"

"It's fine, Dedue. I don't believe she means the castle any harm."

"I am only concerned about you. You have a lot riding on this project; it would be a shame if you lost that by putting your faith in the wrong person."

Dimitri paused. "I understand, but you don't need to concern yourself with my well being. If you don't want to do the mockups, I understand and won’t press the issue any further."

"I can do them. They need to be done anyway."

* * *

When Dedue got home, he took all his botany books from his bookshelf, as well as his old university notebooks, and began researching for the mock-up of the castle grounds. He was still concerned with Dimitri's sudden trust in a strange woman who had broken into the castle. But in the same breath, he trusted Dimitri, so he trusted whatever judgment call he made on this woman. So for the time being, he needed to trust this woman.

Besides, he needed to do a mock-up of the grounds anyway to provide the construction crew. They needed to know where the retaining walls and such needed to be built. It was precisely why he was brought on for this project, why he received a stipend from the university, so he needed to do the best he could on the project.

He opened his laptop and booted it up. Before drawing up his plans, he checked his emails. There was one from Sylvain with his blueprints for the castle. Dedue nodded to himself and saved the images in a file marked  _ castle restoration _ on his desktop. 

Just as he was starting up iScape so he could begin planning the gardens, his phone buzzed. 

_ Hey, I just found this Brigid restaurant and thought of you. Do you want anything? _

Dedue and Ashe lived in the same apartment complex, and over the months they had lived in the same building, it became something of a tradition for them to get takeout from the local restaurants and try it together. Last time, they tried a Sreng fusion restaurant that had opened three blocks away from their apartment complex. They had become closer in the month since they started working on the castle, often working late on plans for the gardens-be it the castle gardens or the community garden in the heart of Fhirdiad-and Ashe’s thesis over several takeout containers from a new local restaurant they were trying.

_ I would appreciate that. Thank you. _

While Dedue waited for Ashe to arrive, he worked on his layout for the gardens. He consulted Sylvain's blueprints heavily, as well as his botany books that dealt in Faerghus' local flora. He flipped between his various books, taking notes in a crisp spiral notebook he had bought for the purpose of planning the layout of the gardens. For a moment, he considered teeming the gardens around Fearghus' flag but scrapped that plan when he decided to use more native flora than his plan initially called for.

He finished making some notes about which flowers he wanted to pair together in an arrangement and the specific care they would need to thrive when there was a knock at his door. Then, he heard the key he had given Ashe sink in and unlock the door. 

"Dedue? Are you home?"

"I'm in the office."

Moments later, Ashe came in, a large paper bag cradled in his arms. The smell of food wafted through the room, causing Dedue to perk up a little from it.

"I was just finishing up." He stated simply, shutting some of his books and putting his pen back in his neatly arranged pen holder. 

Ashe took a few steps behind him and looked at the garden arrangements he had been working on in iScape.

"Wow! That looks great! Is that for the castle?"

Dedue nodded once. "Dimitri asked me to make a mockup of the landscaping so he could show that woman who broke into the castle."

Ashe fell back a couple of steps. "You mean the woman named after Lady Byleth?" His voice quivered a little over the name.

"Yes, her."

"It's a little spooky, us finding that painting of Lady Byleth and Dimitri finding a woman named after her breaking into the castle."

"I'm more concerned with Dimitri's sudden faith in a person he just met," he shut his laptop, "but it isn't my place to correct him." He didn’t say it for fear of scaring Ashe, but he  _ did  _ find the name odd. Even odder when Dimitri had mentioned her striking resemblance to the woman in the paintings.

* * *

Dedue saved his work and shut his laptop down properly, then they both headed into the small galley kitchen to get some plates for the meal. 

Ashe, who was already familiar with Dedue’s kitchen, began pulling the necessary flatware and silverware out for the meal, with the occasional helping hand from Dedue because he kept something on a shelf too high to reach. Meanwhile, Dedue took the small watering can he kept in the kitchen and watered his countertop herb garden.

“How is the community garden going?” Ashe asked. He headed into the adjoining dining room, though he could be heard nonetheless.

“The flowers are well, and the vegetables are almost ready for harvest.” If Ashe wanted for more of an explanation, he would be hard-pressed to find one here. Though he never needled, never made Dedue uncomfortable for his want of more conversation, and he found that refreshing in a place where everyone had questions for him that he didn’t feel comfortable answering. 

Dedue joined him in the dining room.

“That sounds lovely. I would love to come to visit it someday. To see your hard work.” Ashe smiled.

He hesitated, the gentle smile catching him off guard in a way that confused him. 

“I would like that.”

“And maybe we could cook something together with the vegetables you grew.”

This time, Dedue smiled. “That would be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, you can [find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only warning for this chapter is a bit of talk of death and injury in the sections marked Glenn and Edelgard.

**Felix**

Felix hated feeling like Dimitri's errand boy. 

They were three months into the project, with half the courtyard gutted of anything that couldn't be built upon with modern materials. This made way for the piles of building materials that littered the courtyard and a small section of the grand entrance, which was as sheltered from the elements as one could get on site. 

It looked a lot nicer in pictures, he conceded, leafing through the manilla folder he had with him to show their progress. In-person, he thought it looked like shit. A polished turd, Sylvain called it jokingly one day when they finally had the pacing done. Felix felt it was a suitable description. 

"You may come in now."

He tucked the photos back into the folder with the paperwork that Edelgard had filled out and headed into the office. 

Felix had never met with Seteth in person. All of his meetings with him had been over the phone, and even those were limited. He didn't know what to expect of the office as a result. Yet, he supposed the near-obsessive tidiness with little personality except for a couple potted plants he suspected to be fake and a 10-gallon desktop aquarium with a tenacious-looking betta fish attempting to fight its own reflection was on brand. 

The person at the desk wasn't Seteth, however. It was Flayn.

On a couple of occasions, they had met, and Felix questioned her place at the university. He didn't think she attended any class, nor did he think she was on the payroll in any official capacity. In the same breath, he also suspected her to be Seteth's assistant, given the fact that he had seen her when he hadn't seen anything of him. 

"Please have a seat." She gestured for the seat opposite hers at the desk in a manner she found amusing, given her steadily growing smile. 

Felix set the folder on the desk and took a seat. "I thought we needed to report to Seteth with our progress." He said, folding his arms over his chest.

Flayn tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He is feeling under the weather and decided to work from home today. I am keeping his appointments if that is alright with you."

He shook his head. "It's fine. If I'm being sent to do Dimitri's work, I don't see a problem in you doing Seteth's."

"Excellent. Is that the report?" She gestured for the manilla folder.

"Yeah," he pushed it towards her, "I guess there's no point in going over a comprehensive explanation, but we're on month three of the rebuild. We just received our last permit for the build about two weeks ago. Currently, we have the courtyard torn up so it can be repaved and we can rebuild the outbuildings first. Dimitri wanted to wait on actual work with the castle until later."

Flayn flipped through the folder a little. "You do not sound pleased."

Felix pursed his lips. He wasn't about to bring up points of contention with the rebuild, no less with Flayn. So, he considered his words carefully. "I would do things differently, that's all." Such as not putting off the clearing of the royal tomb because some woman he met while she was breaking into the castle batted her eyelashes and asked nicely.

She nodded. "I see. Well, I will turn these documents in to Seteth and he will call Dimitri or Edelgard if he has questions. That will be all. Thank you."

* * *

While he walked down the halls toward the parking lot, Felix pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his texts. There was one from Glenn, which he was quick to click on.

_ Don't forget it's almost mother's birthday loser. _

and a follow-up

_ Do you want to go in together and get her a present? _

Felix wrote a hasty reply. 

He made to pocket his phone but found himself slowing to a stop when he heard a song of sorts coming from the door to his left. Normally, he would have paid it little mind, figuring it to be some undergrad listening to music while they worked and singing along. 

But, he recognized the voice. And he recognized the song, except he didn't know why he recognized a song about  _ swamp beasties _ . The fact that he recognized the strange song frustrated him just as much as the familiarity he felt for those odd paintings. While Felix couldn't place his finger on why he knew the song, he did recognize the voice as Annette's and assumed he must have been in the art wing, near the restoration room. May as well pay her a visit before heading back to the castle, he figured; getting yelled at by Annette for barging in on her was marginally better than having to play Dimitri's keeper. 

Felix stepped into the dimly lit room, the pungent smell of solvents and other cleaners hitting him like an invisible wall. He held the sleeve of his shirt to his nostrils to help conceal the smell and came into the room properly. 

Annette was sitting on a stool in front of one of the paintings of Lady Byleth, holding a cotton swab in her latex-gloved hand while she lightly dabbed at the painting. Parts of it already looked cleaner and brighter than he remembered, looking splendid in what little light Annette's tabletop light afforded. Her workstation, in stark contrast, was a disaster of bottles, jars, and discarded trash she hadn’t bothered with disposing of properly.

"It's looking really good so far." He said.

Annette practically threw her cotton swab on the ground at the sound of his voice. She whirled around on her stool, free hand balled into a tiny fist. "Felix," she bellowed in a way that betrayed her size, "how did you get in here?"

"The door was unlocked," Felix explained, not feeling like he owed her much else in the way of explanation. Especially when he was only looking to inquire about her song.

Despite his explanation, her expression darkened and she anchored her feet on the ground securely. "Then  _ why _ did you come in here? To bother me while I'm working?" She tried to appear busy by looking at her various solvents arranged in a messy jumble on her worktable. 

Felix matched her gaze with one of his own. "I heard you singing. Do you always sing when you work or is it just when you work on paintings?"

The anger Annette was holding in her expression faded to something that Felix couldn't place. "Singing? I wasn't singing."

"Yes you were," he responded, "something about...swamp beasties?"

Annette frowned. While she sat silently, she made an attempt to arrange her solvents in a neat row and depositing her discarded swabs and paper towels in a less neat pile. When she was satisfied, she turned to him, concerned. "Felix? Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Have you...have you been experiencing lost time since we started working on the castle?"

"Can't say I have." 

"Oh. Hm...Please don't think I'm making this up, but I need to tell someone about this, and you're the only one here. But since we've been working on the castle, I've found myself blacking out and  _ waking up _ in a different room, or doing something else. Not all the time. Just two or three times."

This time, Felix frowned. 

He knew about Dimitri's blackouts, saw them increasing with an alarming frequency when he previously thought he had them under control. And then Annette was saying she was experiencing them as well? None of that sat well with him; it only served to make him squirm in his skin more in regards to everything they were doing in the castle and making him wish he had been more resolute in refusing to help. 

"Maybe there's some sort of chemicals or compounds in the castle that we kicked up by starting this restoration and it's causing the blackouts," Felix didn't know much about such things, but it was as logical an explanation as any, "but I don't think you're making it up."

She peeled away her latex gloves. A smile crept across her face that caused Felix's heart to leap in his throat in the most unpleasant of ways.

"Thanks. I appreciate you listening to me," Annette paused a moment, "hey Felix? Do you want to pick up lunch with me? I was just going to go on break."

* * *

Felix was just finishing up his sandwich while Annette switched between her large cookies and creme milkshake and her own sandwich. She still had about half of each to go, while Felix was popping in the last bite of his and crumbling up the butcher’s paper it had been wrapped in. It didn’t surprise him that it was taking so long to finish; she had been chatting about her work with the painting, needling him about castle progress, mentioning this bakery her and Mercedes found last weekend that had the most lovely macarons. Normally, he hated idle banter, meant to fill the silence, but something about the way Annette did it felt genuine and comforting. 

She was just finishing up her sandwich when she looked at him, her sunny disposition replaced with something a bit more serious.

“I can’t keep hiding that painting of King Blaiddyd and Lady Byleth from everyone,” She admitted somberly, “Dimitri’s been asking for pictures of all the paintings, and I’m going to eventually have to work on restoring it.”

“I know,” Felix bit off his words a little too soon, “I just need a little more time to figure out what to do about it.” 

“I don’t want to destroy it; it’s an important part of Faerghus history. But having Dimitri’s face watching me? Eugh. Spooky.”

“I know,” he looked down at her crumbled mass of butcher’s paper, “you done?”

Annette nodded. “Yep! I’m taking the shake to go.”

Felix walked her out to her car, despite it being midday and there being virtually no threat of anything happening to Annette on her way from the deli to her car parked half a block down. Plus, while small, he knew her to be filled with a near frightening amount of tenacity. 

They stopped about five paces from her car; he was parked across the street and a few hundred feet down; he could see it from this vantage point. 

Annette shuffled nervously, then met him with a “Thanks for lunch, Felix. We should do this again sometime,” and kissed him on the cheek. 

Before he had a chance to realize what happened, she was already hopping into the driver’s side.

* * *

**Dimitri**

It was nearly 7:30 and he had just managed to get the table set for dinner. All-day, he had been busy with the castle, so busy that he had nearly forgotten that he had invited Byleth over to dinner that night to show her some revised blueprints Sylvain had drawn up and dropped off at his apartment earlier that week. 

_ This isn't a date _ . 

That mantra played out on his head when he walked through the aisles at the grocery store, picking out the salmon and leafy vegetables he recalled her favoring every time the had eaten together when he texted Dedue for some recipes to prepare them when he asked the older woman with the twin teenagers who lived next door if she could taste the dishes and tell him if he got the seasonings right because the Hell if he could tell the difference. 

It wasn't a date, but he wasn't so sure he was convincing himself of that when he was wearing his best shirt and triple checking that the water glasses he had arranged on the table weren't the ones with the chipping to the lip. 

There was  _ something _ about Byleth that made him nervous in a way he didn't know how to explain, something that made him desperate for this to be a date and yet so terrified of that at the same time. Something that felt so foreign and yet so familiar. Yes, she looked like the woman in the paintings-the woman in his dreams-but it went far beyond that. Her voice caused his heart to leap up into his throat. A brush of her skin against his was near enough for him to clasp a hand over hers and beg for a few more moments.

While he sat at the worn dining table, consulting some books he couldn't help but spread across it despite the dinner guest who he was expecting any moment, Dimitri's phone gave a buzz.

_ I'm running late. Be there around 8-8:30. _

He frowned at the text, yet a bit grateful for the delay; he could work just a little while longer. The only thing that managed to consume his waking thoughts more than the mystery that was Byleth was the mystery that was Castle Blaiddyd.

_ Just walk in when you get here. The door is unlocked. _

* * *

Dimitri had just finished warming the vegetables when the door to his apartment opened and Byleth walked in. Her nondescript black portfolio folder was tucked under her arm, which Dimitri eyed curiously. He knew she was doing her own research into the castle, and couldn't help but wonder what she had managed to dig up.

"Thank you for having me," she said, setting the portfolio down on the sideboard where he kept his keys and wallet, "your apartment is nice. Clean."

"It's difficult to dirty it when you spend most of your time at work." He placed the baking dish down on the table, then rounded back into the galley style kitchen to get the pan of salmon. "I hope you like what I made. I'm not much of a cook, but a friend of mine sent me some recipes, and the woman who lives next door helped me get the seasonings right."

"I'm sure it's fine." 

Byleth was seated at the table when he came out with the frying pan. It smelled good enough, he told himself when he set it down, so he imagined the taste couldn't be  _ too  _ bad.

"Would you like some wine? I was told a white would pair well with this dish, so I bought that. But I have some beer as well if you would prefer that."

"You don't need to trouble yourself with me. Water is fine."

"I'm sorry," Dimitri took a seat at the table opposite her and gave her an awkward sort of grin, "I don't often have guests, so I may be overcompensating a bit."

"It's fine. You invited me here to pick my mind, not to wine and dine me, I'm sure."

Dimitri's heart gave a powerful  _ thud _ .

"Yes, of course," and he took her plate and began serving her the meal.

Dinner conversation was fine. They talked about their day, which ultimately resulted in Dimitri recalling how the courtyards were coming along, and they were hoping to be working inside before first snowfall, but you could never be so sure with Fhirdiad winters. Byleth was not so loose-lipped about her day. She woke up later than she wanted, did a little writing and lost track of time, then came over.

He cleaned up the dishes after they ate, and then went into his office to get Sylvain's blueprints. For a moment, he considered showing off the blueprints in there; there was a sturdy worktable that lasted him longer than his last dinner table, but he changed his mind somewhere on the way.

Byleth was sitting patiently with her portfolio folder when he returned. 

Dimitri rested the telescopic tubes against the side of the table and sat back down. "Sylvain did some revisions to his initial blueprints that I wanted to share with you." He said, then removed the cap off one of the tubes and began laying the blueprint out on the table. 

"We're moving at a great pace. The courtyard is almost finished being repaved, and some of the outbuildings have been restored."

He gestured towards a point of the blueprint. 

"After consulting some historical records of the time, we think this wing over here," he pointed to a separate point of the map, "is the royal suites, not where we previously believed."

Byleth nodded.

"This area right here was likely Queen Byleth's suites," he pointed, "and right here was the King's."

"It was the other way around," Byleth was staring at the blueprints, though her expression was something of an unreadable mask, "the Queen's chambers would have been these over here, and the King's were this set."

Dimitri paused. "How do you figure?"

This time, Byleth went silent. She studied the blueprints wordlessly, lips a thin line. Dimitri didn't know what to make of that from her, and that made him nervous.

"The poems, they talk about the sun rising on King Blaiddyd's chambers. He would have to have an eastern facing window, yeah?" She pointed at a window, which gave him the glint of silver and emerald on her ring finger. The ring, he couldn't take his eyes off it. There was something about the ring, something that caused a pang of hurt in his gut.

"I didn't know you were married." He said, gesturing for the ring in a way that made his stomach sink. 

She glanced down at the ring. "What? Oh-yes-no...I ...I'm a widow. I just can't bring myself to stop wearing the ring." Byleth fiddled with the ring a little. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Dimitri looked elsewhere.

"It's okay. I don't talk about him much because it's been a while and there's no sense dwelling in the past. But...something happened recently that made me think of him, so here I am wearing my wedding band again."

They talked a little more about the rebuild after that. Dimitri took a look at her portfolio, though was distracted by the ring. The ring that was so familiar to him that he couldn't deny the connection. The ring he had seen in his dreams. Seen  _ himself _ put on the dream woman who looked just like Byleth. Once, his hand grazed hers and he got a taste of the cool metal under his skin. 

Then, he blacked out.

* * *

When Dimitri got his bearings again, he and Byleth were standing outside in the cool Fhirdiad night. He didn't know what time it was, or rather, how much he lost. All he knew was that his body was suspiciously close to hers, her back was pressed into the driver's side door, and he had a tingling sort of sensation on his lips that he associated with kissing. One of her hands was lightly on his shoulder, and the other anchored against the car.

Oh, goddess, what did he do?

But she was looking at him, expecting something he wasn't prepared for or had any idea about. Maybe she wanted another kiss if that was what they had done. Or maybe she wanted an apology for the one he may have forced on her. Whatever he did, he ran the risk of it being an inappropriate response to the situation and that made his stomach churn.

"Dimitri," Byleth said, at that moment, he became acutely aware of the keys in her hand, "I need to go, but could I call you some time as a social call?"

So, she wasn't mad at him; that much was a relief. But he still didn't know what he did or why she was looking at him like that and goddess, his head was  _ pounding _ like something was trying to escape his skull. 

"Yes-yeah. You could call me again. I would like that." He croaked out with a few steps backward for good measure. He didn't want to give her the impression that he was trying to trap her.

Mostly, he wanted a second chance at that maybe-kiss, but without blacking out. 

* * *

**Glenn**

Rodrigue's voice droned over the speakerphone with a white noise quality that both comforted and irritated Glenn. Normally, he didn't like to talk when he worked, liked to be left alone in his study with a true-crime podcast or some calming music while he consulted his litany of history books over artifacts he found, but there was no denying his father. Especially when he heard from Lambert, who heard from Dimitri, that the rebuild was going this or that way, and why were his sons so secretive about their professional life? 

So, he accepted this call, despite the knowledge that it would only add to his frustration in the long run. 

He did his best to keep the answers brief. A yes, Father here or the most bare-bones account of how the restoration was going if Rodrigue felt like pressing for more. Glenn knew he couldn't focus on conversation and read his history books at the same time, so he decided to divert the energy to where he really wanted it. 

"Are you still there Felix-damn-Glenn?" 

Glenn flipped a page in his book. "Yes, Father. I'm just very busy at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." He didn't bother keeping the distaste from his voice; he didn't see the point beyond some spared feelings. 

"Well, I don't want to keep you then. I'll see you at your mother's birthday.

Glenn muttered a similar thing and dropped the call. 

He eased back in his office chair, hands clasped behind his head as he looked up at the map that hung above his desk. Nothing about it was particularly interesting to him at the moment, but he needed a change of scenery from the small print in the book. It was at that moment that he realized he was hungry and had skipped lunch.

"Ingrid, what do you want to do for dinner?"

Glenn expected to see her open that office door at any moment, either with a fistful of takeout menus or an idea of something they could cook that night. They were both passable cooks, nothing like those friends of Felix's, though Ingrid could make a mean steak with grilled mushrooms and onions, and Glenn's bolognese wasn't half bad if he did say so himself.

Seconds turned to minutes, and Glenn began to wonder if she was home. He had seen her in her own office before heading into his to get some work done, and he hadn't heard her leave. But, he  _ had _ been distracted with that call with his father, so maybe she left then. Or, maybe it was something as simple as her wearing her earbuds and not hearing him. Glenn grabbed his phone.

_ Dinner? _

The phone was abandoned back on the desk, though he expected a text in a matter of a minute with what she wanted. 

While he waited, Glenn got up and headed for the kitchen. He rifled through the fridge a little, pushing aside the stack if luncheon meats Ingrid liked to snack on to see what else they had. They had some chicken thawing in a glass bowl, a variety of fruits and vegetables, last night's takeout, and some snack foods like yogurt cups and string cheese. He glanced at the assortment of hot sauces on the door and decided on making a stir fry if Ingrid was going to have him pick; he was pretty sure they had about a five-pound bag of rice in the pantry that they got on sale. 

Just as he was closing the fridge, Glenn heard a noise from Ingrid's office. 

"Ingrid?"

No response.

So, Glenn decided to investigate.

He tried the handle of the door and found it to be unlocked. Glenn walked in; Ingrid was seated at her desk, computer monitor on, but she was not focusing on it, or the phone next to the keyboard, which he could see blinked with his previous text. She wiped her eyes, which were red and a bit puffy from crying.

"Oh, Felix, I didn't see you there." Her voice quivered and she did her best to turn away to conceal the tears.

"Felix?" 

Glenn didn't hear Felix walk in, not that it was like him to just walk in, but he still looked over his shoulder, anticipating his brother. 

No Felix. 

"Ingrid, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. I know it's been five years, and I've made my peace with Glenn's passing, but today has been particularly rough."

He gulped. "Ingrid?"

Like a switch was flipped, Ingrid shifted. She touched a hand to her face, and when she felt the moisture, she looked to Glenn suspiciously. 

"Glenn? What...what happened?"

Glenn began to tell her what happened, about her confusing him for Felix, and talking about how he had died. But, when he brought word to the tongue, he caught himself. She seemed upset enough, whether she knew what she had said or not, and didn't need him adding to that.

"Nothing," he forced a smile, "I was wondering if you wanted to order a pizza for dinner. Meat supreme, extra pepperoni. And then we can rent that cheesy action movie you've been wanting to see on-demand and cuddle up with popcorn."

She touched a hand to the tears again, then used the back of her hand to mop up whatever was left. "Can we get garlic knots too?"

"Sure."

* * *

**Edelgard**

Mother finished putting out the last of the nights' meal and took her seat opposite father at the head of the table. She could smell the braised beef despite the ceramic lid that kept the casserole dish's contents concealed from view and felt herself grow hungry. The onion gratin soup was hit or miss for her, it was something of a staple in the house.

Father checked his watch, and with a worried expression, looked toward the door of the dining room. "It isn't like that boy to be late." He said, worried. Mother grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze for comfort. 

Something deep within Edelgard felt a little vindicated by Dimitri's tardiness to Sunday night dinner with their parents. They were both always punctual, a value their parents instilled in them both, but Dimitri had a habit of needling her for her carelessness if she chose not to tell their parents when she wasn't going to make it, and that bothered her in the way younger brothers always annoyed their older sisters.

So, having him on the chopping block for once felt a bit nice.

"You don't think he got into another accident?" Father didn't bother to conceal the worry in his voice this time. 

"I'm sure it's fine, Lambert. The accident was a freak thing. He probably just got tied up with something and forgot to call or text."

Edelgard bristled at the mention of the accident. 

Both of them had their own share of health-related issues, what with Dimitri's blackouts and her needing to be in and out of hospitals for her own illness, but the accident four years ago changed a lot of things for them. The official report said that Dimitri had fallen asleep at the wheel. That alone was unfortunate, especially as he ended up losing an eye and his sense of taste. But, Edelgard knew better. She knew he blacked out behind the wheel and made up the story about falling asleep to spare their parents the worry. She even confronted him about it when he was still admitted in the hospital. 

In hindsight, she felt guilty about forcing that confrontation, though at the time it was something of a victory to her.

She wondered if this absence was the product of another blackout that he hadn't admitted to having, but she knew he was. This time, she would hold her tongue on the matter; it felt wrong to force him to admit it if he wasn't ready. 

And worst of all is that she started having them herself. No. She couldn't air Dimitri's dirty laundry without admitting to her own struggles. 

Edelgard remained silent and sipped her water. 

Then, as if on cue, the front door opened and shut. 

"Sorry I'm late. I was meeting with some people about how we're going to clear out the passage to the burial tomb of the castle." Moments later, Dimitri rounded into the dining room and kissed their mother on the top of her head before taking his seat.

"Just in time," Father clapped his hands on his thighs, pretending like he wasn't just wringing his hands with worry; Edelgard rolled her eyes, "we wanted to discuss what we were going to do for your uncle Rufus' 50th birthday this year over dinner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. All always [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	5. Chapter 5

**Sylvain**

He knew he was distracting himself from his task when he opened up Tinder with the side of his thumb and began scrolling through a conversation he was having with a bartender he matched with the other night, but Sylvain needed that. Just five more minutes and he would make the call. Just  _ something  _ to distract him from the waves of anxious nausea and the feeling like his stomach was going to fall out of his butt. He reached over to the volume dial of his car stereo and turned it down in preparation for later. Sylvain typed a quick response to the girl: a winky face. She was cute enough, but something in his gut told him that this conversation wouldn't go any further than Tinder. None of them had as of recent, mostly due to his own disinterest.

With a sigh, he rested his head against the headrest and checked the time once more. 

Four minutes had passed.

His palms were clammy, hands shaking a little, but he punched in the number he had to google earlier that day and held his breath. 

"Itha Correctional. How may I help you?" A warm woman's voice that he would have described as grandmotherly came through the other end.

Sylvain sucked in a breath. "Yeah, hi. My name is Sylvain. Gautier. I uh...I wanted to call an inmate today. I didn't miss that time or whatever, did I?"

"No, Mr. Gautier, inmates can still accept calls. Could I have the inmate number and name, please?"

"Uh, yeah, hold on," he switched his phone over to the speaker and checked his memo app, "the number is 1134237. Miklan Gautier."

"Okay, what is your relation to the inmate?"

"Brother."

He heard some faint typing. "Okay, Mr. Gautier. I'm going to put you on hold and transfer you over. Some inmates don't wish to speak, but in that case, you will be transferred over to another operator who will inform you of that."

"Right. Thanks."

"Of course, Mr. Gautier."

An informational recording detailing the prison began to play on loop with a dated musical track playing behind it. Sylvain set his phone on his knee, still on speaker, and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. Goddess, if he smoked, he would be blazing through cigarette after cigarette. 

He was on hold for about five or ten minutes. The whole time, he occupied himself with rolling down the window and then rolling it back up. Or obsessively changing stations until he was bored with that and stopped at a station that was entirely music in Almyran. Eventually, that got shut off too in favor of silence.

Then, when he was certain he would be switched back to an operator, he heard Miklan's gravelly voice. 

"Baby brother." He didn't have to say it for Sylvain to know that Miklan was not pleased.

"Uh...hey, Miklan. How's it going?" Sylvain laughed nervously.

"I'm in fucking prison, you shit stain, how do you think?"

Sylvain's grip tightened on his steering wheel to a point of pain. "I don't know. I was just wanting to talk to you. You're my brother, after all." 

He felt like he was going to throw up.

Miklan made a noise that could only be described as a verbal sneer. "You're not my brother. Mother and Father wrote me out of the will long before I got sent to prison. You were always their  _ golden boy _ , whoring yourself around Faerghus with no one batting an eye to it while I got disowned."

Sylvain gritted his teeth. His heart was pounding so hard that he could hear his pulse in his ears. Why did he think this was a good idea? How could he have been such an idiot?

"Well, uh, I need to get back to work. So I'll talk to you some other time."

"Yeah."

And the call dropped.

In a flurry of emotion, Sylvain slammed his hand into his steering wheel several times, causing the brassy horn to blare. A passerby shouted something that was likely an insult, but Sylvain didn't care. His palm stung when he pulled it away. The whole heel of his hand was imprinted with the car company logo and the skin was tinted pink. He flexed his fingers. Tomorrow, it would likely be bruised.

Fuck. 

He was trembling and on the brink of tears and he didn't know why except that it was his own fucking fault to think that things might have changed in those 6 years Miklan was behind bars. Part of him even blamed himself for that. If he hadn’t been born and became their father’s favorite, Miklan would have never turned to crime.

Sylvain quickly downed the half-empty bottle of water that had been sitting in his car all week, did his best to compose himself, then stepped outside.

* * *

"Ba da da da!" Sang Annette as she pulled the canvas cloth off the painting.

The room smelled faintly of solvents and something like turpentine, but not strong enough to warrant a response from him other than an occasionally wrinkled nose. The smell helped him ignore the dull throb in his hand, oddly enough, so he took several deep breaths in at random intervals, even though he was a little afraid of what the chemicals might do to his lungs. 

When the canvas fell away completely, they could see the painting of Lady Byleth that Annette had been restoring, now returned to its full splendor. Minute details, like the fair hairs that almost seemed to pick up the light source and the emerald ring that matched her hair and eyes were lost prior, but now added to the overall loveliness of the painting.

Sylvain whistled low. "Wow. Lady Byleth sure was a hottie. She can come haunt my castle any day." 

He had only meant it as a joke, something to get a rise out of Annette so he could segue into complimenting the hard work she had put into it. And judging by the smile and slight eye roll from her, she had read it as much. However, when he surveyed the looks of everyone else, he could see that Dimitri was looking at him with a dark expression that bordered on rage.

Before Sylvain could even raise his hands and claim it as a joke, Dimitri was on him. They were nearly nose to nose, close enough that Sylvain needed to take a step back to put some space between them.

"I care not how you speak of the other women of the Kingdom, but you will  _ not _ speak of my wife that way, Sylvain Gautier." The words were hissed through his teeth, low and animalistic. 

Something about that, about Dimitri's tone of voice and the conversation from earlier triggered something in Sylvain. He turned on the balls of his feet and stormed out of the room and down the hall towards the parking lot. Behind him, he could hear Ashe's confusion, Dedue attempting to talk Dimitri down, but he didn't care about any of that. The only thing he knew was that he was feeling incredibly light-headed suddenly and needed fresh air. 

* * *

When Mercedes found him, he was sitting on the stairs of the art department building. Sylvain hadn't even bothered to take his phone out and distract himself with Tinder or Instagram like he normally would have. He was just so frustrated with himself that he had convinced himself that he didn't even deserve that simple pleasure. 

He hardly noticed her when she sat down beside him, but when he felt her feather-light touch on his shoulder, he turned to her.

"Come to tell me I'm a fuck up like everyone else?" He groused.

She shook her head. "No. I came to check on you. You seemed very upset back there and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Oh." He laced his fingers together and sandwiched them between his knees.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sylvain sucked a breath in. "No. Yes. It's...it's more than what happened back in that room. I...I called my brother today."

"Oh? How did that go?"

"Not good. Do you know how he's in prison? Well, I wanted to talk to him, to see if maybe being behind bars helped change him for the better because I get stupid and sentimental on rare occasions. He hadn't changed at all. Just the same old Miklan. So there I was, already feeling like a fucking jackass who made a huge mistake when Dimitri's biting my head off because I joked that some dead chick was hot. I'm just like, why do I constantly gotta fuck shit up and make everyone hate me?"

Mercedes was silent for a moment. Her lips were done up in a thin line, but her hand was still on his shoulder. That was somehow the most important part of it all. "Dimitri doesn't hate you. None of us do. He feels really guilty about what happened, though he doesn't remember doing any of it," she went silent for a moment, and then, "please don't take this the wrong way, Sylvain, but have you ever considered going to therapy?"

"Therapy?"

"Yes. The way you were just talking about yourself was very alarming to me, and I think you might do well to talk with a professional about these things. I could give you the number to the clinic I go to and they could recommend a therapist to you."

An initial thought of how Mercedes didn’t seem like the sort to need therapy crossed his mind. She had everything so together, she was always kind and gentle. Always met everyone with the same kindness. Then, he recalled their conversation about her stepfather and her adoptive father on the drive home from several months ago, how she laid down the abuses and neglect she suffered because she and her mother inherited some money from her biological father. Maybe she went to therapy for that, and  _ that _ was why she had everything so in order.

Sylvain couldn't meet her gaze, but he did take a peek at her through his periphery. Mercedes was always so kind. Always offering to help when she didn't need to and no one would hold it against her if she had been selfish. But there she was, fishing her phone out of her purse so she could text him the number. He had told her she was a special lady all the time and only half meant it, but something then, something about her soft expression and her gentle touch that he wished she hadn't pulled away made his conviction in those words spoken dozens of times before real for the first time.

"You're a special person, Mercedes. I mean that."

"I think you're special too, Sylvain."

She was looking with him with that gentle smile on her face that he always regarded as being goddess-sent in joking. Yet, at that moment, he could have sworn that his heart really, truly skipped a beat.

Sylvain pressed one of his hands to the cool concrete and, mimicking her feathery touch from earlier, placed the other on her shoulder. He leaned in for a kiss. For a moment, her eyes slid shut and she braced her hands against his shoulders in anticipation.

But just as quickly, she firmly, though not aggressively, pushed him away. 

Mercedes was flushed, and that gentle goddess-like smile was wiped off her face. In its wake was a look he knew too well: It was one of shame.

"Sylvain," she said, hardly above a whisper, "I don't think we should. Not right now."

As upset as he was that he didn't get to kiss her, Sylvain did his best to mask his disappointment. Mercedes didn't want it, and that was the end of that; no sense in arguing. He consciously set his face in a neutral expression. Why he ever thought someone like Mercedes von Martritz would want him was a mystery and he was an asshole for trying to act on those fluttery feelings she gave him. 

"Yeah, you're probably right."

A bitterness came to Sylvain's mouth; perhaps Miklan had been right.

* * *

**Ingrid**

The construction crew waited for her in the mouth of the corridor while Ingrid surveyed the collapse in a more hands-on manner. She liked to be in the thick of it, waist-deep in mud, or rubble, of what have you, getting just as dirty as the boys. The reconstruction was no exception. She had been trusted with her own team of people who would defer to her on matters, do as she said without question

It felt nice to finally have that sort of recognition. 

While she climbed some of the rubble in an effort to get a better view of the damage, Ingrid managed to skin her knees and the fleshy parts of her palms. She winced a little, but proceeded, moving whatever stones she could so she could see beyond the great pile of debris just a little. Any true excavation would have to be done delicately and with the right tools, neither of which was what she had been prepared for; this endeavor was merely preliminary.

If only her parents could see her then, she thought briefly, chucking aside some softball-sized rocks, all dirty with skinned knees like when she was a child. They wanted her to be a doctor or a lawyer, to put aside dreams of digging in the dirt like when she was a child. Take a lucrative six-figure job, they suggested. Would they be happy to see her like this?

Ingrid shook her head and focused on the task at hand.

"I think I can see something." She said, contorting into a strange shape so she could get a better look.

"So, do you think the ceiling collapsed, or…" One of the construction workers asked.

"No. It looks like all of this was placed here. The ceiling looks fine." 

Though Ingrid wouldn't know for certain until they cleared away the mess completely, she had a hunch, and that hunch appeared to be proven true. She had pulled several all-nighters when they moved to do interior work in the castle, consulting the various updated blueprints Sylvain had emailed out with the various building parameters she knew were used at the time. Her goal had been to figure if the passage leading to the tomb were the result of a floor collapse, or something more man-made. And, from the sheer amount of debris littering the passage and the fact that the rooms above were fairly intact and with hardly any damage to the floor, she felt it best to proceed.

Lucky for her, she had been trusted to do just that.

Ingrid hopped down off the pile of rubble and wiped her hands on her khaki shorts. Her crew, four men of varying ages, all looked at her expectantly. 

"I need to run it by Dimitri and Edelgard first since they're overseeing the rebuild, but we should be able to start clearing this all away either today or tomorrow." Why they hadn't done it sooner, she didn't know.

She sent her crew on a fifteen-minute break, and then made her way into the grand entrance. Ashe was sitting cross-legged on the floor with some of his books as he scribbled away furiously. She gave him a friendly wave, which he reciprocated. Since he seemed busy, she gave him a wide berth, leaning up against a wall several yards away from him. Then, she pulled her phone out and called Dimitri.

"Ingrid? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing. I was just inspecting the passage leading to the tomb with my guys, and I'm pretty sure the collapse is not a collapse, probably some rubble that was put there. I wanted to ask you and Edelgard if it would be okay to start clearing out that passage."

Dimitri said nothing.

Ingrid's stomach sank. 

"I should talk to El on this. Hold on. I'll get her on a conference call with us."

Within several seconds, Edelgard's cool voice was on the line, begrudging Dimitri for bothering her when she was working on a case at the office. But when she heard Ingrid, she softened a little.

"What seems to be the issue, Ingrid?"

She explained the whole situation again regarding the passage and the collapse. Edelgard was silent the entire time, merely taking in the information while she could hear Dimitri speaking to someone else, though kind of far off. Likely, he had put the phone on speaker and walked away.

"I see no issue in you beginning the excavation process of the passage if you believe it is structurally sound. We should perhaps bring some construction experts in to confirm the stability, but I could make those calls after I hang up and have someone in by weeks' end."

Edelgard had only just finished speaking when Dimitri replied in a hurried manner, "You don't think we're rushing it a little? Shouldn't we wait until the rest of the castle is further along?"

"Why? Because that history author you've been meeting with thinks so? It's terribly romantic, saving the tomb for last and finding the king and queen resting together, but it sounds like a romance novel fantasy. It's not practical to save one portion of the castle for last, Dimitri."

"I think I agree with Edelgard, Dimitri," said Ingrid, breaking her silence, "we should be handling multiple projects at once, and right now, leaving one area completely alone is a hindrance rather than a help."

Nothing from either of them and then, "I suppose you're right."

The call ended, and Ingrid pocketed her phone. She felt exhausted from the conversation. It wasn't strange for her to play mediator in squabbles, be it with her own brothers, Glenn and Felix, or within their friend group. Still, having to take on that role in regards to the excavation and rebuild left her emotionally exhausted. 

She glanced over at Ashe, who was still sitting on the floor with his books. He was, however, playing like he hadn't been eavesdropping until he caught her gaze and gave up the act.

"I'm sorry, Ingrid, I shouldn't have been listening," he rubbed his neck nervously, "but that author Edelgard mentioned, is she the woman who sometimes comes around here at night?"

Ingrid shrugged. She had yet to meet the woman, only heard about her through some of the others who had, but from what everyone else had said, something about her was off. She had a vacant sort of expression about her, said very little about herself and never unprompted, and was always busy during the day. That, of course, was in addition to her uncanny resemblance to and shared a name with Lady Byleth. Ingrid didn't believe in apparitions or ghosts, so she already discredited the notion that she could have been the ghost of the fallen queen, but likewise, she didn't believe in coincidences, which put her in an odd position with this woman. 

"I think she may be, yeah. I haven't met her yet, but Dimitri seems quite taken with her. Glenn met her a couple of nights ago and said she's nice but strange."

Almost instantly, Ashe's entire demeanor changed. Where he had been invested in conversation with Ingrid, he had a watchful eye cast at every flickering shadow in the room. His grip on his notebook had become ironclad and unrelenting.

"They say this place is haunted," he said, voice quivering slightly, "do you think she may be the Ashen Demon?"

"I doubt it," said Ingrid with a note of bravado, "she's just interested in the castle the same way Dimitri is and probably works during the day." She conveniently left out the bit about the strange resemblance to the woman in the paintings; Ashe likely knew, and if he didn't, Ingrid would have felt guilty about making matters worse for him. 

"I see. Well in any case, I should probably meet her eventually, given our shared interest in the castle and the lore surrounding it." Ashe sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

"I would like to meet her eventually as well," Ingrid looked at her watch; her team was likely returning from break and she would have to share the news regarding the collapsed tunnel, "well, it was nice speaking with you."

* * *

**Ashe**

Ingrid had been gone five minutes and still, the fine hairs on the back of Ashe's neck and arms had yet to go down. The castle had become more creepy by the day, and while he tried to remind himself that  _ all _ dusty old buildings felt haunted due to the nature of being a dusty old building. It was something about the ephemeral nature of inhabiting a place, the fact that, several hundred years ago, someone who was long since dead stood where he did and went about a likely mundane task. 

That reminder was usually enough to calm him in other buildings, but not Castle Blaiddyd. In a sense, it was the ghost itself, growing larger and more frightening with each retelling as was customary for ghost stories. Yet, the longer he stayed in the castle, the more he was sure that there were forces at play that were not quite human. 

Of course, his favored culprit was Lady Byleth. 

It was easy to blame her, sure, but knowing that there was a woman who had infiltrated the castle and made herself one of their own while she bore more than a passing resemblance to the paintings made his stomach churn. 

Ashe threw his composition notebook down in his lap and typed a quick text to Dedue.

_ We still on for dinner tonight???? I could really go for some sweet and sour pork _

While he waited for a response, Ashe checked the time on his phone and scrolled social media a little. His younger sister had adopted a dog and was posting pictures constantly. He smiled and typed a response. 

_ Yes. I know a place. I'll text you the address. _

Though Dedue's texts were very concise and curt, Ashe's stomach still went up in butterflies at it. There was something about Dedue, whether it was his no-nonsense exterior or the hidden gentleness that the world at large didn't know that never failed to make Ashe nervous as a schoolgirl, though he was still far too embarrassed to admit those feelings. 

So, he began neatly packing his things into his bag in preparation to leave and pushed those thoughts from his mind. Ashe was halfway done when his phone buzzed again and he glanced down at it. 

_ I have to work late. Can we meet around 8:30? _

_ Sure!!!! _

So, he wasn't needed to be there for another hour. And from here, it was only half an hour, he approximated, to his destination. So, he had a little more time to work, though a stark lack of daylight to do so in; Faerghus was already in its downswing to the days getting longer. 

Just as Ashe was about to leave in earnest and wait in his car until their rendezvous, some workers appeared through one of the side corridors and began filing out into the courtyard to get the lights. Dimitri followed shortly after, covered in construction dust and hair pulled off his face in a half ponytail. Ashe hadn't been to the site as often as some, but each time, he was met with a similar image: Dimitri, caked in grime because he was likely in the thick of it with the workers, doling out instructions to anyone who would listen. 

"How do you think everything is coming along?" He asked hands rested on his hips as he studied Ashe in a way that made him feel exposed.

"Oh! I...I'm not an expert in any capacity, but it's looking great so far."

"Everyone is putting a lot of work in. We're really coming together on this to give the castle a second chance," Dimitri glanced down at his phone, then back at Ashe, "are you leaving? There is someone I would like you to meet."

Ashe swallowed hard. He knew in the pit of his stomach that if he followed the line of questioning that was looping in his head, he would eventually reach the conclusion that the strange woman he and Ingrid had been talking about earlier was who he intended to introduce him to. He was left eating his words from then, about how he would eventually meet her anyway; this surprise left him no time to prepare mentally for the potential of coming face-to-face with the Ashen Demon. And closer to the reality that she may have been looking to make Dimitri her next victim.

"I was just packing up, but I could say hi." He said dryly.

"Wonderful. She only just pulled up, so she should be here any minute. I think you both have a lot in common."

The minutes leading up to her entrance dragged on, feeling more like hours. Dimitri tried to fill that time with small talk, anxious for a different reason, it seemed. Ashe, however, was terrified and doing his best to keep it off his face, though he figured he was probably doing a poor job of it. 

If he was, Dimitri had either been too polite to mention, or too oblivious due to his excitement.

Her arrival was announced with one of the construction workers coming in, and, over his shoulder instructing, "mind the step, Ms.Eisner. Many of us have tripped over it."

Dimitri did his best to clean the dust from his face and hands using a washcloth he kept in his pants pocket in those seconds, while Ashe attempted to fade into obscurity.

The woman stepped in, and instantly, Ashe was floored by how similar she looked to the paintings. For the longest time, he was telling himself it was nothing more than a passing resemblance, like how someone might say two celebrities looked a little similar under the right circumstances. But her, it was more than a trick of the light or his memory filling in for details he had forgotten. This woman looked like she stepped out of one of the paintings of Lady Byleth and her first order of business was an updated wardrobe. 

Just the thought sent a chill down his spine.

Dimitri awkwardly shuffled around; he looked uncertain if it was appropriate to go in for a hug, or if he should only shake her hand. The woman going in for a peck to the lips caught him-and Ashe-off guard, though Dimitri regarded the surprise as a pleasant one and reciprocated.

Ashe hastily shoved the last of his things into his bag and stood up.

"Byleth, I would like you to meet someone, this is Ashe. He's a friend of mine who has been studying the folklore of the region and castle for his thesis."

Dimitri led the woman-Byleth-over with a hand pressed to the small of her back. Ashe froze in place. His palms were clammy and his mouth was dry. Images of his hand passing right through hers when he went to shake crossed through his mind. Still, he wiped his palms on his jeans just in case he was overreacting. 

"I heard a lot about you, Ashe." She held her hand out for the shaking.

He hesitated, "Only good, I hope." His joke fell flat.

"Of course. You know Dimitri; he isn't much of a gossip."

Byleth's cool facade broke momentarily to reveal a fleeting, but warm smile as she looked over at Dimitri. The sight caused Ashe to ease a little. Okay, so maybe she wasn't a heartless monster looking to devour his friend's soul if she looked at him like that. He extended his hand out to shake hers.

It didn't pass through her as he had expected, but she was cold, so very cold. Her fingers, though pliant and soft as skin ought to be, were as cool to the touch as ice. When they finished shaking, he pulled his hand away and pocketed it to restore some of his warmth. 

"Well," started Ashe, working on his exit, "I should get going now. Dedue and I have plans for dinner and I shouldn't keep him waiting. It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Ashe."

* * *

**Annette**

Annette knew she was close to pulling another all-nighter again on the paintings, and that put her stomach in uneasy knots. Mercie would worry if she didn't come home, even if she texted and assured her that she was only working, and the janitorial staff would be there all night too. And she was granted keys by the department head, and Felix had come by earlier with takeout and one of those sugary sweet lattes from those chain coffee shops she loved so much.

When she thought of Felix, her brain became a confused jumble of thoughts that she couldn't sort out and that only served to frustrate her. They weren't official, or else, neither had said as much. Still, they were together at least three times a week, and she had kissed him a couple more times, each with him growing a little more receptive to it. Felix was an island of a person, so in spite of how well things seemed to be going, he gave her no indication that they were going  _ anywhere. _ Annette had half a mind to call Ingrid about it; she was engaged to a Fraldarius, and could maybe shed some light on the inner workings of the Fraldarius mind.

But, not tonight. 

The lab was officially open for another hour, and she had told Dimitri that his lady friend could come by and see the paintings since she had been asking. She wasn't certain what the relation was there, besides she was the intruder that first night at the castle. Though, she heard from Mercie who heard from Sylvain that they were most certainly  _ canoodling _ , or else, getting real close to it. Annette figured the word choice was a deliberate one on Mercedes' part because Sylvain would have said something much more colorful. 

While she waited, Annette sat on her stool, and with a critical eye, inspected the painting of Lady Byleth and King Blaiddyd. In comparison to the others, it was in amazing shape, not that any of them were particularly heavily soiled or worn. She got the distinct impression that all the paintings were well-loved and cared for, probably even sent in for routine cleanings up until a certain point about fifty to one hundred years ago. Though, the one of the pair was even better than that. Annette could already tell that it would need very little in the vein of restorative work; the frame would probably need the most work and that was mainly polishing in those fine grooves that often got overlooked. 

Still, the fact that he looked so much like Dimitri, down to the eyepatch and the way he smiled down at his wife troubled her. 

There was a knock at the door, and without thinking to cover the painting once more with the tarp, Annette chimed out with a "come in!" It wasn't until the door opened that she realized her mistake. She fumbled around with the sheet a little in an attempt to cover up the painting, but by the time she hoisted it off the floor, the woman was already in the room and could see the painting. 

Annette had heard about the resemblance from others and had seen Dimitri's new  _ friend _ from a distance, but here, next to the painting, they could have been mirror twins of one another. The woman-Byleth, she believed-was just as laser-focused on the painting and had noticed the resemblance as well. Or, maybe it was Dimitri's resemblance to the other subject; Annette was no mind reader. 

She did attempt to fill the silence between them with a conversation.

"It's a really lovely piece, quite lifelike too. Painters at the time often softened features that weren't of the beauty standard of the time, or exaggerated ones that were, but these appear to be a more accurate representation of what the King and Queen likely looked like." 

She noted a scarred knuckle on the Queen when noble ladies were expected to have pristine and flawless hands, King Blaiddyd, similarly, was scarred and not to the delicate-skinned standards of the time. 

Byleth wasn't listening, Annette realized. She had maintained eye contact with the subject, particularly Blaiddyd. Her eyes had misted over in a manner that suggested incoming tears. One of her hands found her mouth. Something made Annette feel as though this was a private moment she was witnessing, so she turned away to give her some privacy. 

Enough time passed for Annette to open Twitter and tag Felix in a cat video that appeared on her timeline before Byleth was clearing her throat and suggesting that her need for privacy had come to an end. 

"Thank you," She said in a small voice, and then a follow-up, "has Dimitri seen this one yet?"

Annette shook her head. "No. Felix and I, well, we thought it was best to keep it from him for the time being."

"Good. Please, don't let him see it. Just for a little longer."

"He's been asking for pictures." Annette shuffled nervously.

"I'll handle him," Byleth said, "thank you again. I should be going."

Something came over Annette at that moment, something she didn't understand except a vague sense of nostalgia, but she found herself subconsciously reaching out for Byleth to hug her. 

Byleth was less shocked than Annette would have expected, though Annette hadn't known what came over her at that moment all the same. Still, there was something familiar about Byleth, something Annette hadn't realized she missed until she was there in the hug. Words couldn't quite describe it, but something about the contact felt like an old friend whom she hadn't seen in years. 

Something about Byleth felt like someone she had known her entire life but was only just meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	6. Chapter 6

**Hubert**

The cursor of his manuscript blinked at him, not so much a taunt as it was a calling. His first draft was done, and he had the notes from his editor for the better part of a week, but he wanted a few days' time away from the novel before getting to work on making everything intentional in it. That day, however, was a good time to start making sense of it all. Hubert the notes from his editor sitting next to his keyboard, as well as the yellow highlighted revisions written in the margins of the actual manuscript. He knew what needed to be done to the first draft, and was prepared to start the work on it, but something in the back of his mind was nagging him. 

Putting off the edits, he pulled his phone out and looked for the texts from Dimitri. They didn't talk often, so he didn't have to scroll back too far, which was convenient for him. And, as expected, the pictures were there. Hubert was hoping to glean some sort of inspiration for the editing process from them; perhaps Lady Byleth's face would give him the inspiration he needed to tie together the narrative threads. He flipped through them, face set in a frown as he scrolled through them. While Hubert had asked for them, something seemed off when he took a closer look at one.

From the corner of one of the pictures, he could see something. The sickeningly sweet orange tea with the boba pearls sitting dangerously close to some toxic looking substances stood out at first, but that was more the health hazard that he noticed. Just beyond the painting that was the main focus of the picture, he could see another painting, one that wasn't in any of the other pictures. Every other painting was of the green-haired woman, but in this one, clearly, he could make out the shape of a man. Still, it was so small that he couldn't tell for sure. One thought kept coming to mind: why wasn't this painting photographed like the others?

Hubert zoomed into that particular spot of the picture, close enough for him to get a better look at it despite the low resolution. It was mostly obscured, but he could see that without a shadow of a doubt, the man in the painting bore a strong resemblance to Dimitri. 

He rested back in his chair, looking at the grainy image of this not Dimitri while he considered calling Edelgard to ask her about it. No, he wouldn't bother her with silly things unless it came to concern her. Especially not something that he would likely chalk up to coincidence later.

But, he  _ would _ call someone who might shed some light on the matter.

* * *

"Linhardt." Said Hubert without any introduction.

He received a yawn in response. "Hello, Hubert."

"I need you to look at some pictures for me and tell me what you think of them."

"You woke me up from my nap for this?" 

Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just look at the pictures for me. I'm sending them to you."

Before sending over one of the suspect paintings, Hubert edited the photo appropriately, mainly in zooming, cropping, and sharpening up the image. He sent that first, and another of Edelgard and Dimitri from the family vacation he accompanied them on last year. 

While Hubert waited, he switched over to speakerphone. 

Linhardt yawned once more, then responded with, "That's your brother-in-law? The man in the painting looks just like him."

"Yes. What do you think of that? I believe I've mentioned his blackouts and odd behavior before as well."

Though he couldn't see it over the phone, Hubert could tell that Linhardt had become suddenly interested in the conversation at hand based on the lack of yawns and sleepy disposition. "I know you don't believe in any of the topics you write on, but I read this  _ fascinating  _ article about reincarnation that I think may be of interest to you."

Hubert knew why, despite his insistence to the contrary, but still, he wanted to hear someone else say it. Someone else say that they were mirror images of each other and his eyes were not deceiving him. He needed someone else, someone of a rational mind, to tell him that he wasn't going crazy and that there was more to this than an odd resemblance.

"Why do you think that would interest me?"

"Come  _ on _ , Hubert. I guess I'll summarize because you probably won't read it even if I send it to you. The article theorizes that sometimes a person's soul could be reincarnated if they had unresolved circumstances in life, or if there was something that they needed to pursue. And since you're digging in Castle Blaiddyd, I'm guessing the painting is one found inside."

Hubert sat in silence. 

What Linhardt was implying was a lot. A lot more than he would have believed if he hadn't seen what he had or experienced what he did. The lapses in memory that everyone involved with the castle was having, it was all too odd. Too much to shrug off as a coincidence when he was staring at this in the face. 

"Thank you, Linhardt. You can get back to your nap, now."

* * *

**Mercedes**

She sat, knees crossed, and hands neatly folded in her lap as her therapist, an older woman with her graying hair pulled back in a harsh bun, wrote some things down on her notepad. They recorded the sessions, which was customary, but her therapist also liked physical notes, Mercedes knew. She had been seeing this particular therapist for two years, after jumping around from one to another until she found one that worked for her. And Freja Morgan worked very well for her.

"I called Emile the other day," Mercedes said thoughtfully with a finger to her chin, "he's doing well. His psychologist is trying a different medication for him, and he thinks it will work better." 

Freja scribbled something down. "I'm glad that you were able to reach out to your brother after all these years. I know the separation was difficult on you."

Mercedes nodded. Her mind went to Sylvain briefly, to the kiss they almost shared that day on the steps of the university and the conflicting emotions it left her with. She hadn't told anyone about it, not even Annette, and for a moment, she considered bringing it up to Freja. But, just as quickly as the idea was born, it was rejected; she  _ would _ talk about it with Annette later. It was probably best not to air Sylvain's history to someone who didn't know him. "I think that's it for my week."

* * *

On her way back to the cottage, Mercedes picked up a pink frozen drink that was just a bit too sweet with extra  _ extra _ whipped cream and sweet drizzle for Annette and a cinnamon latte for herself. Though it was still a way off from pumpkin spice season officially, the chill in the air was unmistakably present some mornings and she wanted nothing more than a warm drink. So, she settled for something similar enough to scratch the pumpkin spice itch.

Annette's cheerful VW beetle was in the driveway when Mercedes pulled up, which gave her hope that they could talk about the Sylvain situation a bit; talking about it with Freja seemed wrong, given how much of Sylvain's past she would have to explain to fully encapsulate the situation. Still, she considered if it was the right decision once more before unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing Annette's drink from her cupholder.

"Annie? Are you home?" Mercedes called out, setting her keys in the key bowl by the front door and slipping her boots off. 

"Yeah! I was just cleaning the bathroom! Hold on!"

About a minute later, Annette came down the hallway, hair pulled back casually. She saw the pink concoction before even greeting Mercedes officially, eyes alight at the surprise.

"Is that for me?" She asked though she knew the answer, given how fast she snatched it up and popped the straw in her mouth. 

"Hey, Annie, do you think we could talk about something?"

"Talk about what? I'm all ears, Mercie." The straw went back in her mouth, and she headed into the living area so they could sit down. Mercedes could tell she had been cleaning, given the freshly vacuumed rug and the organized stack of magazines and coffee table books on the coffee table.

Mercedes followed. 

"It's about Sylvain. He and I have been getting close lately. He's really quite sweet and thoughtful when you get past that playboy persona he shields himself with, and I suppose I've started developing feelings for that genuine side of him. But the other day, when you unveiled the first completed painting to us, he tried to kiss me, and I pushed him away."

"I'll kick his ass if he forces anything on you." Annette said with a frightening amount of conviction. She popped the straw back into her mouth.

"Oh, goodness, no. He didn't force anything. When I said I didn't want to kiss him then, he took that no for an answer."

"Good."

"The thing is though, I really did want to kiss him. I do really care for Sylvain, and I wouldn't mind pursuing a relationship with him, but he was in a very vulnerable and emotional state, so I felt like I would be taking advantage of him if I had kissed him then."

"So go for it and kiss him next time you see him if it's not a bad situation. !" Whooped Annette. She nearly knocked her drink over onto the rug, resulting in a comical attempt to catch it. The plastic cup still fell, but she was able to retrieve it before any of the sickly pink liquid ended up on the floor.

"Oh goodness, I don't think I can do that. I'm not bold like you are." She fussed with one of her earrings. 

"Listen," started Annette; she set her plastic cup down on the coffee table with a dull thud, "Sylvain clearly wants to kiss you, and you want to kiss him as well. What's the worst that can happen? The relationship doesn't work out? That you keep trying to pursue a relationship with him, but he's too dense to realize you're doing that?"

"I don't think Sylvain is as oblivious as Felix."

Annette made a grumpy face, causing Mercedes to laugh a little. "Just joking, Annie."

"Oh, hey, if it's alright, I invited Byleth over to dinner tonight. She was really nice when I met her the other day, and I felt like most of the others were really making her feel unwelcome on the project."

"Of course she's welcome. I'll run to the grocery store and pick up some things for dinner. What do you suggest I make?"

Annette shrugged and typed something into her phone. She waited a few moments and then a "Shit. She's probably working right now. I think she has some dietary restrictions though."

"I'll ask Dimitri before heading to the store. I know they've gotten quite close as of recent."

* * *

Making dinner was an interesting adventure for Annette and Mercedes. While Mercedes was a wonder with baking, she lacked the cooking knowledge to pull off some of the impressive dishes she had seen Dedue and Ashe pull off. She had eventually settled on a seafood ravioli with a kale and broccoli side salad. She tried to make a basil and sage brown butter sauce but ended up burning the butter and sage, resulting in Annette having to run to the store to pick up a jarred sauce to replace the ruined one while Mercedes disheartening finished preparing the rest of the meal. 

Byleth showed up around 8:40 PM, later than Mercedes typically liked having dinner, but she understood that writing textbooks probably meant doing a lot of research and then having to pare all that down to a more easily digestible format for students to study. 

"The meal smells lovely." Byleth said as she walked into their eat-in kitchen behind Annette.

"I hope it  _ tastes _ lovely. I messed up the sauce the first time, so I had Annie pick up some store-bought sauce instead." Mercedes finished plating the pasta and brought it to the table. 

"I appreciate the effort, in any case. And I hate to trouble you any further, but could I have a glass of water? I need to take my medicine."

Annette peeked up. "On it! With ice?" 

"Room temperature is fine."

Annette brought the glass of water over just as Mercedes finished bringing all the food over to the table. 

"I hope everything is to your liking. I heard you have dietary restrictions."

"Not  _ restrictions.  _ I...it's more like a rare form of anemia. My iron is very low and I need to take supplements and medication with an iron-rich diet to keep it at a healthy level for me." She was fussing with a fork while she spoke, likely to keep her hands busy. 

"I see. Well, luckily everything is pretty iron-rich."

During dinner, they cheerfully discussed work or the most recent TV show they were watching. The sort of conversation meant to fill silence just as much as it was meant to get to know someone. But in an odd sort of way, the ice breakers felt unnecessary. Byleth was familiar to Mercedes in a way that was not unlike the way Annette was. Like she met her sometime before and had merely forgotten, but her mind still struggled to grasp for whatever details it could. 

The sensation reached a point where it could no longer be ignored while she was clearing away their dirty dishes. Mercedes turned back to the table while she stood at the sink, and with some unease asked "Byleth, have we met sometime in the past? Maybe we attended the same university or something and I saw you around? You seem so familiar to me. Like I know you."

"I don't believe so. I attended university elsewhere," she picked at the placemat in front of her a bit, "but I hear that a lot."

"I was thinking the same, but then I realized you just looked a lot like the paintings of Lady Byleth. Kind of like those Twitter posts people do of paintings they look like." Added Annette.

Mercedes laughed and smiled along with the explanation, but she wasn't convinced by it. And, from the look she exchanged with Annette while Byleth was checking her phone, she wasn't convinced either.

* * *

**Dedue**

Smells of rich seasonings wafted into Dedue's nostrils while he stirred some garlic around in an oil and butter mixture he had in his cast-iron pan. The smell reminded him of his mother and sister back home and filled his heart with longing for a brief moment while he grabbed a wooden spoon from an adjacent drawer. 

He grabbed the prepared vegetables from the counter and tossed them into the pan with his seasonings and gave them a thorough stir. Then, he switched on the exhaust fan. 

At a knock at the door, Dedue turned the fire down to low heat and headed out of the kitchen to answer it. He had been expecting Ashe at any moment, but he had hoped that he had time enough to finish the vegetables before he had arrived. 

"I'm sorry I'm a little early," Ashe said sheepishly, "I finished my first draft of my thesis and submitted it, so I headed into town and got some sugar candies to have for dessert tonight."

Dedue's face broke into a small smile when he looked over the paper bag with the logo for Ashe's favorite candy shop printed on the front. "That would be a nice after-dinner treat." Then, he led Ashe into the kitchen.

"Wow! Something smells amazing! What are you making?" Ashe rounded the counter to peer into the pan.

"It's a recipe from Duscur. Sauteed vegetables in a garlic butter sauce with meat and herb rice."

"That sounds delicious," Ashe took another whiff of the vegetables, "do you need any help?"

Dedue thought on it a moment. Initially, he wanted to say no and that he could prepare the meal himself. He saw the meat wrapped in butcher's paper next to the stove and turned to Ashe, "could you trim the fat and cube the meat for me? I already washed the rice and have it simmering, and the vegetables are coming along nicely."

"Sure!" Ashe grabbed one of the spare cutting boards and a knife from the knife drawer. 

With Ashe's help, the meal came along faster than Dedue had planned, and they were able to sit down and eat together. 

"You said you finished your thesis?" Asked Dedue between bites of rice and meat. While he struggled with saying what he meant at times, he knew Ashe was far more conversational and would like to share what he had been working on. 

"Yes! Well, sort of. I submitted my first draft for review. I'll have a lot of edits to do once I get it back. But I should have some time to help at the castle."

Dedue set his spoon down. "It will be nice to have you around more."

Ashe's face flushed pink and had looked elsewhere. "This is very delicious. You said it was a recipe from Duscur?" He pushed some of the rice around. 

"Yes. It's a common recipe, but this is how my mother makes it." 

A pregnant silence fell between them as Ashe continued to eat his food. Dedue shifted anxiously, wondering if he had done something to offend Ashe. He continued to eat his food quietly. 

After dinner, he and Ashe cleared up the dishes together, though the awkward silence enveloped them like a fog. Dedue was not much for conversation, and he didn't know how to ask if he had said something that made things shift between them. No matter what he said, Dedue felt it would come across as accusatory, even if that wasn't his intent. 

"Hey, Dedue?" Ashe asked, cutting into the silence as he put away the cooking pot. 

"Yes?" He glanced over his shoulder from his spot at the sink. Ashe was stealing glances where he could, watching Dedue, all the while unaware that he was being watched as well.

"I didn't mean to be awkward during dinner. You just said something that...nevermind. It's not important." Ashe turned away and focused on wiping down one of the counters with a rag he found near the sink. It was a tactic, no doubt, meant to distract both himself and Dedue from the conversation.

"You don't need to mince your words with me." Dedue said simply. 

"Oh, well I...I was hoping...I like you a lot. And I was hoping you liked me too." Ashe was incredibly red, and though he was turned away and trying to hide his face, it was still obvious. 

A heat rose to Dedue's face. His heart was fluttering in his chest like hummingbird wings. Ashe had since turned to face him, and his gentle, if queasy smile was disarming. The transition of words from his brain to his tongue was not going to happen, but he did take one of Ashe's hands in his and stroke the knuckles with his thumb. His were smaller than Dedue's, and so very warm, but nonetheless comforting amidst his previous concerns. 

"So, uh, you like me too?"

Dedue nodded a smile that matched Ashe's finding his face.

"Good," his voice cracked a little, "I was worried." Then he sealed Dedue's lips with a kiss.

* * *

**Byleth**

She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, the dull blue glow of her laptop illuminating her otherwise dark apartment. Since the change, she didn't need the lights much anymore; the humming of fluorescent lights often gave her a headache, so she found it best to keep them off unless necessary. A plate of cold salmon and a quinoa lentil salad with broccoli sat beside her laptop; it was a recipe Seteth had suggested to curb the hunger gnawing at her nerve endings. And it worked most nights, as long as she remembered the pills and supplements. 

Everything changed when she met Dimitri, though. 

She always made sure to satiate the hunger before seeing him, but when she was with him, the need grew tenfold. She could hear the beat of his heart, see the pronounced vein in his neck when he spoke, smell the scent of his skin, even when he masked it with cologne; something about it was painfully intoxicating. The need was carnal and consuming, though she couldn't tell if it was the burning hunger, or lust for a man who looked so much like her husband. 

Even then, when she sat alone in her apartment with her cold meal and the draft for the textbook she was working on taunted her, all she could think of was him. He had texted not long ago, pictures of the progress on the castle, and a group shot of him, Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid that she wasn't certain he meant to send, but it still put a smile on her face to see. At the same time, it made her sad, sad to see the gentle smile that was so much like her late husband's and made her miss him the more she looked at it. 

To combat the encroaching loneliness, Byleth furiously typed a few lines into her draft. When the haze of inspiration receded and she was left with several paragraphs of history that were more rooted in personal experience than anything she read in the source material (which was wildly inaccurate), she ended up hitting the delete button more than she would have liked. While it was a more accurate account of the history, she couldn't rightfully use  _ I was there _ as her source. 

Damn the need for sources. 

Frustrated with the lack of headway in her draft, she picked up her plate of food and her phone and headed into the kitchen for a change of scenery to cleanse her palate. Byleth stood at the counter, picking at her salmon with her fingers while she scrolled through social media when her phone began to ring. 

It was Dimitri. 

Byleth hesitated with the accept button. She didn't know if she wanted to speak with him at that moment. Not when every fiber of her being was so muddled over what her intentions for him were. Still, ignoring him would only serve to make her feel guilty. She hit the accept button with her clean hand.

"Yes?"

There was a pause on the other line, and then what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Byleth, I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

She shook her head and instantly felt stupid for it because he couldn't see her. "No. I was taking a break from working on the textbook to have something to eat." 

The gnawing at the edge of her consciousness grew more potent. Goddess, even the sound of his voice was enough to confuse her senses. 

"Burning the candle at both ends, I see. Well, be sure you get enough rest. You have been looking rather pale these last weeks." Concern riddled his tone over those last words, catching Byleth off guard. 

"Well, I'll be sure to get plenty of rest, if I'm causing you to worry," a pause long enough for her to pick another piece of salmon off the fillet and pop it into her mouth, "I got those pictures you sent me."

"Good. But, ah, I wasn't calling about the castle."

"Just wanted to hear the sound of my voice?" She joked dryly.

Dimitri snorted. "Something like that. Actually, my uncle's 50th birthday party is coming up and my parents are throwing a big party at a reception hall with caterers, and music. I...well, I was wondering if you wanted to come. As my date."

"Your date?" The broccoli floret she was holding dropped from her fingers onto the counter. She hardly noticed. 

"Yeah. I understand if you don't want to go because you don't know my uncle, so don't feel obligated to bring a gift. But it will be fun. Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid's families are invited as well, so you could always hide with them if things get awkward."

"I'm sure it will be fine, but," Byleth's mind was moving faster than her mouth, and as such, it took her a moment to compose her thoughts, "is this how you want me to meet your family?" 

The implications surrounding meeting his family seemed to suck the air out of the room. Byleth felt breathless, like she was hit hard in the chest, though she couldn't tell if it was from general nerves that came with meeting a potential lover's family, or a more deep-seated fear of being exposed, of being so overtaken with her hunger. She fumbled around the cabinets for a glass so she could get herself some water.

"I would like you to meet my family, yes. But if you don't want to go, I understand." There was a disappointment there, like he had expected this response, but had hoped for something more promising all the same. Something in her wanted to give in to that hope, and that want was just as potent at the hunger at the periphery of her consciousness.

Byleth bit her bottom lip. "I'll go with you, Dimitri. I would like to meet your family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Just a FYI: I'm still not getting emails from AO3, so I haven't been responding to comments, but I see you all and I appreciate all the comments. I'm planning a mass reply session either later today or tomorrow.
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some sexual content in the part marked Felix and some implied over the clothes sexy things in the part marked Dimitri.

**Sylvain**

With his hands in his pockets, Sylvain walked into the reception hall. He thumbed his keys nervously, anxiously fearing they dropped out of his pants pocket on his way from the car to the building. The whole affair felt a little odd to him. As kids, it made perfect sense to be at functions for his friends' relatives. Their parents were all friends too, and it made sense that he, being a child, would be dragged along with and ultimately told to go play in the courtyard with Ingrid, Dimitri, and Felix while the adults drank their red wine and rum and coke inside. 

Now as an adult, however, it felt a little odd. He should have been able to make his own decision on whether to go to these things. On whether he wanted to associate with those people. If his parents had been anyone else, he might have brought it up to them, that he would rather be at home playing Call of Duty with several angry twelve year olds who possessed the vocabulary of the saltiest of sailors. Sylvain thought of his father's disapproving glare, his mother's pinched face that looked like she was sucking on a much too bitter lemon candy. No. They would never let him get out of that. To make matters worse, he had deleted all the dating apps from his phone over the last week, so he didn't even have that distraction to get him through the night.

At least Rufus Blaiddyd was fun in small doses, he told himself, squaring his shoulders and held the door open for Mercedes.

He had her too, he reminded himself. And he felt lucky that he hadn't fucked things up with her too terribly with her and she had agreed to attend as his date. 

Edelgard and Dimitri were greeting the guests when they walked in the room where the party was being held. The decor was sparse, but classy, making him think that Patricia must have arranged for the centerpieces and other decor for the party; if Lambert had done it, he imagined it would have been a bit gaudier. 

"Thank you for coming." Edelgard said politely, and made a gesture which implied that she would take the gift he had tucked under his arm and put it with the others. He gladly handed it over.

"Hey, who all is here?" Sylvain asked, turning his attention to Dimitri. Both he and Edelgard were dressed smartly, Edelgard in a red turtleneck dress that fell just above her knees and black ankle boots and Dimitri in a pale blue button-up and slacks. 

"I think you two are the last ones we were expecting." Dimitri looked around the room as if to inspect the crowd. 

"Good. Can I get a beer or something?" He would certainly need one, knowing his parents were there. 

Edelgard made a dismissive gesture. "Go. Drink with your friends."

Dimitri led Sylvain and Mercedes over to the bar, which, to no surprise for him, was fully stocked and manned by a bartender. Ingrid, Glenn, Felix, and Annette were seated at a nearby table, he saw, with Glenn ordering a drink for whom he suspected to be Ingrid, given the drink seated at the empty seat. 

"Want anything?" He asked of Mercedes, who was pulling her shawl around her shoulders tightly to combat the chill from the air conditioner. 

"Uh...I guess I'll have a glass of white wine. Thank you."

After Glenn returned to the table with the drink for Ingrid, he ordered a beer for himself and Mercedes' wine. While he waited, he made small talk with the bartender, mostly about sports (the Faerghus Lions got slaughtered by the Deer in baseball). He tipped after receiving the drinks, and made his way to the table with the others.

Annette was already giggly from whatever fruity concoction she was drinking and hanging all over Felix by the time he sat down, who seemed to mind far less than he was making it seem, but that was hardly what caught his eye. Byleth had found her way to the table as well; Sylvain hadn't realized she had been invited, but her presence there seemed to help Dimitri ease up a little, so it was probably for the best.

He handed Mercedes her drink and took a seat beside her. 

They talked for a while, thankfully not about the castle. It was mostly reminiscing about old times, Sylvain telling embarrassing stories about the others to their chagrin. It had left Dimitri a pale pink color, with Felix, in contrast, shooting knives at him from across the table.

"If you're going to tell embarrassing stories about everyone else, I think it's only fair to have someone share one of yours." Said Ingrid after a swig of her drink.

"Hey, now," Sylvain threw his hands up defensively, "why don't we talk about something else?"

"If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out,” Said Ingrid with a bite to her tone, “what about the time Sylvain mistook a mannequin at the mall for a woman and started trying to flirt with it?"

Sylvain's stomach dropped, and with a small voice explained, "That's how we found out I'm nearsighted."

He didn't want to meet Mercedes' gaze, afraid of the judgment that he anticipated on her face. In his mind, it was the same disapproving looks he received from both his parents, which only helped exacerbate the entire situation. Yet just as he was at his lowest and was ready to see himself out to deal with the embarrassment and encroaching self hatred, he felt Mercedes' hand lightly squeeze around his. When he looked up at her, she was smiling gently. 

His heart pounded hard in his chest. 

A new kind of embarrassment set in, causing his mind to race for an escape from this. His head whipped around in an attempt to find one.

"Where is Rufus?" he asked, "I should wish that legendary slut a happy birthday."

When the color drained from Dimitri's face, Sylvain realized he had found his distraction and eased up a bit. 

"Legendary slut?" Asked Byleth. Her words only added to Dimitri's shock, which humored him.

"Yeah, Dimitri's uncle is the most prolific slut Faerghus has ever seen. He's had, what? Like six wives and at least as many girlfriends? Rufus makes the rest of us look lazy. I should go wish the old boy a happy birthday."

"Please," Dimitri said, "can we stop calling my uncle a slut?"

* * *

Sylvain threw his sportscar into part outside Mercedes and Annette's cottage. It was nearing midnight already, and he was tired. Thoughts of his bed played out in his mind, making him feel suddenly much older because it wasn't even midnight and he was exhausted. He did his best to push those thoughts from his mind and make sure that he was sending her home safely. Annette's car was in the driveway, but he distinctly remembered that Felix had driven both of them. On top of that, the lights were off. 

"Will you be okay to go in alone? It doesn't look like Felix dropped Annette off yet." 

"She's staying the night by his house, but I'll be fine," Mercedes smiled in a way that took his breath away, "I appreciate your concern, though."

Sylvain laughed nervously, "You know me, always more worried about others than myself."

Her smile grew and she gathered up her purse from the floor of the car. With her keys in hand she reached for the door of the car, hesitated, leaned over towards him, and planted a gentle kiss on his lips.

Mercedes' kiss was warm in a way that was inviting and alarming all the same. Sylvain fell back a bit from the shock of it, but when he realized she was  _ really  _ kissing him, he leaned in a bit more and savored it.

Sylvain was cupping her face when they finally separated. She was so beautiful in the moonlight, so gentle and soft. He wanted to kiss her again. Wanted to do  _ other  _ things as well. But he wouldn't. Mercedes wasn't like his Tinder hookups. She wasn't some girl he met in a bar who would be gone from his life by the time he woke up. Mercedes was special, and he was determined to treat her as such. 

"Would it be okay if I called you in the morning?" He asked.

"I would like that very much."

* * *

**Felix**

Fuck, he was nervous. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't like Annette was the first girl he ever invited back to his place, though he was far from what he would consider a ladies man. Still, something about Annette sitting beside him on his living room sofa, clutching the glass of water she had asked for when they arrived. 

He supposed it was the expectation of what was supposed to transpire that made him the most nervous. They made the relationship official when he asked her to go to Dimitri's uncle's party with him, and then that night when he picked her up for the party, she asked if it would be alright if she stayed the night. His answer had been yes, of course it had, but sitting there at that moment, he felt like there was a lead ball in his stomach weighing him down. 

Annette leaned over, having abandoned the glass of water that she hardly touched on the table so that she could rest her hand on his thigh. Her usual smile was replaced with something more alluring that seemed both out of place and perfectly fitting for her. Felix felt the heat rise to his cheeks and turned away until it stopped. 

"You didn't just invite me up to watch old reruns, did you?" She sang on honeyed words.

"You invited yourself up."

"Come  _ on _ , Felix! Meet me halfway!" Annette's hands were balled up into fists; something about that anger was attractive to him. 

"I'm only teasing," he rolled his eyes for show, "do you want to…"

"...yeah," Annette looked at her feet, "but if you don't want to, we don't have to."

Felix shook his head. He had thought of it. Of course he had thought about sleeping with Annette. But something about initiating that conversation made him so deeply frustrated that he threw himself into his job or working out at the gym to squash those feelings down into the pit of his stomach until they were no longer there. 

Yet at that moment, he couldn't ignore those feelings anymore. Not when her hand was on his thigh and he could feel her eyes burning through him. Felix wanted her. And he was silently grateful that he didn't have to be the first to say it. 

* * *

There was no fanfare on the way to the bedroom. But then again, in his limited experiences, there rarely was. Annette had undressed enthusiastically when they got to the bedroom. She was very pleased about her peach-colored bra, which he did not comment on despite finding quite cute on her. 

His nerves resurfaced, and he was frustrated for it when they did. Felix was the sort of person who prided himself in being good at everything, and if he wasn't good at it or it didn't interest him, he simply did not do it. This, however, was different. He forced the lump forming in his throat down as he tugged off his pants and draped them neatly over the back of the armchair in the room. 

Annette looked him over once. He could feel the heat of her gaze and it filled him with equal parts longing and nervousness. How did he tell her that it's been a while for him? That his last time was a long term partner that he's since been broken up with for quite a while and he hadn't been actively looking? How did he tell her that he  _ really _ liked her, that having her working on the castle made him excited to go to work each day? That he didn't want to fuck things up with her? 

As if she could hear his thoughts, Annette took his hand and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. "I'm glad I'm getting to do this with you." 

Despite the butterflies, Felix felt oddly reassured and led her to the bed. 

They wound up in a position with her straddling him while they kissed. Felix's hands rested on the swell of her hips, which were just as soft as they looked under all her layers of clothes. While they did, she was tugging down his hair and grinding her hips a little to make him hard. 

It was working. 

Annette looked at him after prolonged kissing, which left them both breathless and wanting for more. "Do you have condoms?"

"What," he said, not registering her words initially, then a, "oh, yeah. Under the bathroom sink." 

She hopped out of bed, and with a coquettish look and a wiggle of her butt while she walked out of the room, said, "I'll be  _ right _ back."

Felix quickly shimmied out of his underwear while Annette was gone. Already, he was hard and ready for her, but he did his best to ignore it. The throbbing was annoying, but it would be of no use to become impatient; he wanted to take his time with her. 

Annette returned moments later with the nondescript condom wrapper held between her thumb and forefinger. The corner was ripped a little, but the packaging was far from open; images of her fussing with it and growing increasingly frustrated when she couldn't get it open played on his head, causing him to snort, humored.

"What's so funny?" She asked when she was beside him. The condom had been dropped on his left for his use.

"Nothing. Just imagining you getting mad when trying to open the condom."

"You're evil!" She insisted. 

Felix tore open the small package and put the condom on while Annette watched. Having an audience made him a bit uncomfortable; he pretended that he couldn't feel her eyes on him the entire time. 

Annette climbed back on top of him, angling herself just right before sinking onto him. Felix groaned. His fingers flexed, looking for something to grab on. He found the comforter beneath him. 

She was raising and lowering onto him. Grinding her hips occasionally. Felix was beside himself, lost in the chorus that was her little moans of pleasure. He wanted it to consume him, envelope all his senses so that all that was left was her. 

One of his hands released the blanket and found her hip again. His grip cinched, guiding her down on him the way he liked, the best way he knew how to satisfy her. Felix's mouth lulled open, his labored breaths mingling with the song that was Annette. 

"Just...just like that." His words were barely above a whisper.

"Oh, Felix."

Her movements had gone from fluid and repetitive to something more spontaneous and erratic. Felix too was thrusting into her with more intensity. His breath was ragged, sweat was accumulating on his chest and the place where he joined. He thought he had called her name, but couldn't be sure when Annette was claiming his mouth just about every time their lips were near one another. 

"Fe...Felix…"

She was hunched over him, lips almost constantly sealed against his. Annette was gripping the bedspread, and Felix was gripping her bottom. By the way she was panting and moaning, Felix could tell Annette was close. With her warmth enveloping him and the way she was squeezing around him, it was only a matter of moments for him as well. He focused his mind on other things, on work, on anything else to help him last longer. Even though he tried, his mind kept returning to thoughts of Annette, thoughts of how that moment felt something of a homecoming for him. Like he was returning to her after a long time. Tears welled up in his eyes; he wanted to blink them back, to hide them from her, but he could see the same tears trickling down her cheeks while she rode him to completion.

"Oh...oh, Felix! I'm gonna…"

* * *

**Seteth**

The hallway clock chimed three am when Seteth flipped through the manila folder involving plans for the Blaiddyd Castle rebuild. His laptop was in front of him, email to Rhea half-written. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, flipping through the photos of the various structural changes and making mental notes to himself while he considered what he wanted to say to Rhea. There was a careful balance he needed to strike when discussing these things with her, and finding that balance was reason enough to consider and reconsider his words. 

Flayn had brought him some tea a while ago, but it had since gone cold. He pushed the mug aside to the other side of his desk; later, he would dump it in the sink and wash the mug. For now, he had precious few hours to get his work done before sunrise.

Seteth shut the manila folder and pushed it to the same corner of the desk as the mug and began working on his email to Rhea. She knew something about the goings-on at the castle, something that she wasn't saying and that was eating at the rest of them the more time that went by. 

He sat silently, looking over what he had written when Flayn walked into the office. Her face was one of soft concern, with hands wringing together and eyes darting back down the hall until they focused on his. 

"Byleth is here and wants to speak with you. She seems very upset about something. I let her in, but I could tell her you're busy."

Seteth glanced at the email. "I will speak to her. Perhaps you should put some tea on for her to help calm her."

Flayn nodded. Before she headed for the kitchen, she took his mug. "I will make some tea. Would you like a fresh cup, Father?"

"No thank you."

* * *

Byleth was in the sitting room when Seteth walked in. She was dressed in something that didn't seem quite formal but was far from casual by her tastes all the same. As Flayn had said, she looked rather distraught, which betrayed the blank expression he was accustomed to from her. Seteth lingered in the doorway, lips pursed while he considered which line of conversation he wished to pursue with her. 

"A pleasure to see you, Byleth."

Byleth was suddenly aware of his presence. Before, she had been staring at her feet and looking overall more morose than Seteth was accustomed to. But now, she was doing all she could to keep that expression from her face, like she believed he hadn't seen it only moments previous."Hello, Seteth."

He came into the room and sat in the overstuffed armchair beside the unlit fireplace. "Is something the matter? It's unlike you to visit, especially at this time of night."

Byleth's mouth was set in a thin line, serving as the only indication that she was upset by something. Even for their kind, she was far less emotive and that made it difficult to get a read on her; it made him feel fortunate that she called herself his ally.

"Remember how you wanted me to get close to the man who bought my castle?"

Seteth nodded once. His mind was abuzz with answers to her question; the more he thought on it, the more he didn't like where his mind was going. He cast these assumptions from his mind and waited for her answer. 

"I...how did you know that what you felt for your wife was love and desire, not the hunger?"

He adjusted in his chair, the conversation at hand becoming suddenly uncomfortable for him. Seteth thought of his late wife, which felt more like grasping at straws after all this time. He couldn't remember exactly how she looked, except Flayn smiled like her, and they spent a lot of time walking the beaches under the moonlight. Age eventually claimed her as age did humans, and it had been the hardest thing he had ever endured. Still, he stayed by her side until she had taken her last breath. He loved her as a human despite his immortality. 

And despite the fact that Byleth had loved and was loved by another, she had never loved a mortal in her new life. She never had to learn to differentiate those feelings of longing from the hunger.

"You are finding yourself becoming infatuated with this man, then?" It was a statement drenched in fact despite the questioning tone.

"I...don't know. He's so clever and a bit awkward in a way I find charming in the same way I found my husband charming. I enjoy his company, I enjoy talking to him at length about everything and nothing, but I can't tell heads from tails when it comes to differentiating between the hunger and  _ other  _ feelings."

Flayn came into the room in the natural lull of conversation with the mug of tea. It was her favorite one, pale blue with cartoon likenesses of several fishes on the side. "Here is your tea, Byleth." She said and sat it down on the side table to Byleth's right.

"Thank you, Flayn." Byleth took the cup, but she did not drink any of the tea. Seteth supposed she craved the warmth on her skin. 

Flayn sat on the far side of the sofa with Byleth. Before she did, she took up one of the books from the several bookcases that filled the space and began reading, though he had a suspicion that she was more invested in the conversation than she was the book. 

"This man, he also looks very much like your husband, which I imagine makes the whole ordeal much more confusing."

"He looks  _ exactly  _ like my late husband. And he looks at me like he did. And speaks to me that way. Kisses me... _ touches _ ...but he doesn't seem to remember...like tonight when we were up at the castle, and he took me through the gardens to show me the progress, but we started to kiss, and then he...and it felt good, but…"

Seteth cast Flayn an accusatory look when he noticed her watching Byleth over the edge of her book. She returned to her reading. "...but you felt guilty because you enjoyed it, but he didn't remember doing those things."

Byleth nodded. "What do I do, Seteth? I've never been more confused by anything in my life."

He didn't want to say it, but the issue around this man's resemblance to Byleth's late husband was one of interest to him as well. He had never met the man, but he had seen the paintings, heard about him from the servants of the castle, and through Byleth herself. Seteth wanted answers, and while he looked at her stony face, he recalled the half-written email in the other room and Rhea's insistence upon selling the castle and leaving the paintings to be found by the historian. She knew something about this that she wasn't saying, and that left a sour taste in his mouth.

"I do not have the answers for you, Byleth. This is something you will need to figure out on your own."

Byleth set the mug of tea down on the table, untouched. “I have a lot to think about, I suppose.”

* * *

**Dimitri**

The headache came roaring on as soon as Byleth had left the site for home. They had been coming on more frequently, he found, surging behind his eyes and radiating down through his entire body until every part of him felt like it was taken with a dull pulse and a fiery pain. There was no warning to them, no indication that he would be bed ridden for a time while he felt like something was trying to claw its way out from inside his skull. This time, however, it came hot on the heels of a blackout, one that left him just as disquieted as the headache did.

He recalled walking with Byleth, telling her how Dedue had intended to revitalize the gardens and how beautiful they would look when done. It was a pleasant way to round out the evening; his parents had liked her, Uncle Rufus had liked her (though he was hard pressed to find a woman his uncle didn't like), and overall, it had been a fun evening. A romantic stroll through the eventual gardens seemed like a good way to round out a not date that was actually maybe a date.

But, he blacked out after they had kissed in the courtyard. Dimitri didn't know how much time had passed from there, but when he came to, he had Byleth in a compromising position, pressed into the wall of one of the outbuildings, their bodies completely molded into each other with one of her legs hitched over his hip. They were both completely dressed, and Byleth had told him that he had done nothing she didn't want, but he still felt so wrong, so _dirty_ for touching her like that, especially as he had no recollection of how they had gotten there. It was due to that guilt that he asked her to leave. He would call or text later, he promised, but he needed some time alone.

Some time in the castle by himself.

It seemed, though, that the solitude in the castle was his worst enemy at that moment. Dimitri was doubled over. He had already thrown up once from the pain. In the morning, he would be mad at himself for it. At that moment, however, all he could think was that he hoped whatever it was tearing at his head eventually made its way out so he could have a moments' peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is explicit sexual content in the section labeled Ashe.

**Ashe**

_ The legends involving Lady Byleth are few and far between, yet there are several central themes throughout all of them despite being written by different authors and during different eras. Every author seems to be in agreement that Lady Byleth came from a modest upbringing and eventually was appointed as the Commander of Faerghus' military during the war with the Adrestian Empire. The stories deviate here, with some speculating that she and King Blaiddyd married in secret during the war, where others maintain that they did not marry until after. The prevailing theory, however, is that she was a warrior queen who fought and ruled beside Blaiddyd and was his beloved wife. _

Ashe looked down at the revisions for his thesis and nodded to himself. The rewritten portions about Lady Byleth were coming along nicely, much better than what he had initially drafted into the paper. He had received a great peer review from another student in the program who suggested a more in-depth discussion about Byleth after he mentioned several of her legends but kept the pertaining details sparse. 

He shut his laptop and looked down at the plate of savory pastries Dedue had made him and frowned. He had eaten everything but the flaky crumbs covering the bottom of the plate and was ashamed to admit he considered licking the plate clean. 

Dedue came into the living room, dressed sharply in a button-up in bright jewel tones and a blazer. Ashe smiled at the right, thoughts of the plate forgotten. "Are you ready for dinner?" He asked. 

Ashe looked down at the plate and grimaced; he didn't feel hungry in the slightest after the pastries, but they had standing dinner reservations with Dimitri and Byleth. When he thought of Byleth, his grimace only deepened.

He didn't have a problem with her beyond his lingering suspicions that she was something not of this world, yet those fears only managed to grow the more he thought of her. It had been Dimitri who suggested dinner so that they could exchange notes on their various research topics and pick each other's brains. And Ashe definitely saw the appeal of that. But at the same time, he still half expected her to grow a row of razor-sharp teeth and devour one of them whole. 

Ashe pulled his thumb drive out of his laptop and pocketed it. "Okay, I'm ready.

* * *

Dedue had picked the restaurant for the night, which was a small plates sort of place with an extensive menu of hor'dourves and artisanal sides with a nice beer and wine menu. Neither knew what Byleth liked to eat, though Dedue had a good idea that Dimitri would probably like the place. The pair of them were in the seating area when Ashe and Dedue stepped in. Byleth was seated on a bench seat, focused on her phone, with Dimitri standing next to her, a hand rested on her shoulder while he scrolled through his own phone. The pair of them looked up when the door opened, and Dimitri pocketed his phone.

"Good to see you," a light smile crossed his face, "our table should be ready any moment."

Byleth stood with them. She still had her phone in hand but was otherwise engaged in the conversation, given her piercing eye contact with Ashe that caused him to fall back a step. 

"Thank you for inviting us."

Dinner proceeded fine, though not without Ashe doing all he could to keep an eye on Byleth and keep his distance when necessary. The ghost stories played out in his head, reminding him of the uncanny resemblance and Dimitri's strange lapses in memory; their prevalence in his mind sent a cold shiver down his spine. Dedue seemed to notice this and placed a hand atop Ashe's under the table as comfort. 

With Dedue there, Ashe was able to engage more politely in conversation. He dished out a small portion of the duck sliders and the caprice crostini while eyeing Dimitri's plate of chicken fingers and macaroni suspiciously, mind returning to the flash drive in his pocket and the reason why we had agreed to dinner in the first place.

"So Byleth, you're doing research into the lore surrounding Castle Blaiddyd as well?" 

She speared a brussels sprout from her plate. "Sort of. I'm writing a textbook on Faerghus history, and I'm currently working on the units involving King Blaiddyd."

Ashe ate the duck slider in three bites. It was rich and fatty in the best way, and the onion and red wine jam really complemented the richness of the dish. He wiped his mouth on his napkin and returned to the conversation. "The Blaiddyd legends are my personal favorites. My thesis is about the Blaiddyd legends, specifically the ones involving the Lady Byleth," he thumbed the flash drive in his pocket, "I brought a copy of it if you want to give it a read."

Byleth swirled her brussels sprout that she still hadn't touched in the balsamic glaze still lingering on her plate, "I could give it a read if you want. Would it be okay if I conferred with my notes and left edits in the margins."

For the first time since Ashe had met her, he felt the tension ease. Or, he wasn't concerned much with it at the premise of having an actual author go over his thesis for his degree. Either way, he felt suddenly grateful to have extended the invitation to her. "You would do that for me? I really appreciate that!"

* * *

Somewhere during the drive back to Dedue's, it was agreed upon that Ashe would not be returning to his own apartment that night. He knew it had been his own doing, with the way he was looking at him and how his hand had rested on Dedue's thigh while he disputed with Dimitri over who would pay the check. Ashe knew, he  _ always  _ knew, that Dedue was far too shy to make the first move when it came to these things, so he would have to. 

And, while they were kissing in Dedue's bed, both down to their underwear, he was happy he had. 

The whole time, Ashe had been conscious to ask for permission. Permission to touch Dedue like this, to kiss him here, to take off his clothes. Even then, with Dedue's knee resting between his thighs and occasionally (and as Ashe assumed accidentally) grazing his crotch, he pulled away when he was sure they would be taking things even further to ask, "Is this okay?"

He knew Dedue, knew he was likely too embarrassed, and felt too guilty to initiate anything. That was why Ashe had been the first to speak his feelings, the first to kiss. Ashe loved that shyness about Dedue, and he didn't mind being the first to make the move and take them to the next stage of their relationship. His hand found Dedue's chest, which was so broad in comparison to his palm. And, with a slight smile, he asked "Do you want to do more?"

Dedue looked elsewhere, a slight pink hue rising to his cheeks while he considered what he wished to say. For someone who didn't say much, he was quite considerate about choosing his words. Ashe loved that about him. He nodded once. 

"Only if you want to as well."

Ashe rose to his knees and slowly, he trailed kisses down Dedue, starting from his lips and ending just below his navel. With each one, he checked his expression, checked that this was still wanted and he was still enjoying himself. The color in his face had remained, but his expression had softened. His jewel-like eyes were trained on Ashe; in a way, he felt self-conscious for it, but he proceeded. 

He peeled back Dedue's underwear and abandoned them on an unoccupied spot of the bed. Already, he was hard, as was Ashe, however, his own was going ignored for the time being. Dedue first, he told himself. It was always his partner first, and he was happy about that.

Dedue squirmed when Ashe's mouth found his cock, causing him to pull away. "Do you want to stop?"

For a moment, he remained still, and with a shake of his head said, "No, I want to continue."

Ashe resumed his previous task, suckling on Dedue, pulling away go nibble on his inner thighs, to kiss his navel while maintaining eye contact. He wasn't the most experienced, but Dedue's silent stoicism shifted into soft moans amidst heavier breaths, so he took that as an indication that he was doing well. 

"...Ashe…"

That was the most important part to him, that Dedue wanted this and was enjoying himself. While he was licking his way down the shaft of his cock, Ashe could see in his expression the longing. He wanted this. He wanted  _ Ashe _ . That alone caused his heart to jolt in his chest. 

He alternated between his mouth and hands with the occasional break to give Dedue sweet kisses on the lips. Ashe's head was filled with thoughts of Dedue, his own cock straining painfully against his underwear. But he continued to ignore it. 

When Dedue came, it was sudden. He made no show to warn Ashe that he was close besides the shallow breaths and the repetition of his name. He was able to pry himself free before he did and used his hand to finish him off. Ashe cuddled up close once he had, spreading more kisses across his lips and face. Dedue reciprocated some, others were best left ignored. 

After several minutes of him catching his breath, Dedue turned to him, gaze piercing through Ashe, and leaving him defenseless and bare in the best possible way.

"Would you like me to…" His voice trailed off.

Color rose to Ashe's face at the implication. "Only if you want to."

Dedue's mouth curved into a slight smile. "I do."

Where Ashe felt no apprehension about pleasuring Dedue, there was something positively nerve-wracking about laying on the pillows while Dedue spread his legs apart with his shoulders after removing his underwear. Perhaps it was the sight of his handsome face while he mimicked Ashe's moves from earlier, the licking and the sucking, and Oh Goddess it felt so right. 

He threw his head back into the pillows, lips parted just enough to let his moans escape.

The nervous pit on his stomach eased a little, leaving Ashe with a strange sense of familiarity like they had been there before and done this before and he simply could not think straight when Dedue was doing those things he was doing with his tongue.

"Dedue...I…"

Ashe didn't last long, not that he needed to. Going down on Dedue had already gotten him most of the way there on sheer excitement alone, so when it was his turn, it was simply a matter of a couple of minutes.

The cuddling was more earnest after Ashe had finished. They were a tangle of limbs, stealing kisses when and where they could and smiling at each other in a way that would have felt silly in any other scenario. All Ashe knew was that he was happy, happier than he felt in a long time. Happy to have Dedue there beside him, stroking his hair out of his face so he could kiss the individual freckles on his forehead. That comfort only served to make him sleepy.

"I…" he yawned, "I love you…"

* * *

**Edelgard**

Edelgard could just barely make out Hubert's discussion with his editor in their shared study while she sat on the couch in the living room with various pamphlets and magazines spread about the coffee table. It was a rare day off for her, and she was determined to get some of the planning done for their upcoming wedding. Not that either of them had told their families about the engagement yet. That was neither here nor there, she felt as she leafed through some sample cardstock the printer had sent her home with to mull over when making a choice for the invitations. 

It would have been easier to hire a planner for the wedding, Edelgard knew. Someone who could make all the calls and decisions on her behalf and get it all done while she was busy putting together a case for her most recent client and juggle work on the castle renovation simultaneously. It would have been easier, but it also wouldn't have been Edelgard's style. She liked the chaos of having near too much on her plate and found she thrived in those higher pressure environments. Besides, there was no guarantee that her wedding would be exactly as she wanted it if someone else planned it. 

Hubert had suggested a couple of times that they do the courthouse thing. Get it done quickly with just a handful of friends to bear witness and then tell their families over dinner. The idea had its appeal, she had to admit, but she wanted the big ceremony, even if she was doing away with the religious bits entirely. 

She flipped the page of the magazine to see a picture of a blonde bride with her back to the camera and a man in a three-piece suit who was little more than an accessory when the editor's tone rose a little. Edelgard couldn't tell if that was anger in his tone, but she turned down the news program she had playing for white noise just to get a better listen. 

"A vampire story with reincarnation elements now? What are you thinking, Hubert?"

A moment later, she could hear Hubert reply with, "It will make sense once I tie the threads together in the edits. But the overlying concept is the Ashen Demon is actually a vampire who has been luring men into her castle and killing them, and one day she ends up luring in a man who looks very much like her deceased husband."

A pause, and then, "You don't seem like the romance novel type, Hubert, but I trust you. Send me some pages next week and I'll tell you what I think and how the publisher feels about it."

Edelgard resumed looking through the magazines when their conversation turned more into numbers regarding book sales. That sort of talk disinterested her, though she found it hard to focus on her task when she recalled the conversation. Hubert had changed the plot of his novel? He hadn't told her about that, and for some reason, that upset her. 

A few minutes later, Hubert walked into the kitchen and went into the cabinet to get a glass of water. She watched him through her periphery for a time, feigning disinterest until the hurt had begun gnawing enough to make her uncomfortable. 

"You changed your book? Without telling me?"

Hubert drank his water and walked into the adjoining living room to have the conversation properly. "I felt like I shouldn't concern you with such things."

"Concern me? I'm your fiance. I feel like you should at least tell me these things." She didn't really care that he had changed the angle of his novel; it was more the keeping secrets that bothered her. If Hubert was being dishonest about his book, she didn't think it a stretch to think he might be keeping other, more dire secrets.

He sighed heavily and took a seat beside her. She slid away slightly to put some distance between them.

"Lady Edelgard, you are so busy with running the Empire and marching on Faerghus that I wished to not trouble you with such trivial things."

Her mouth formed into a thin line. She felt as though her blood had gone cold as he spoke; the similarities in how he was speaking and how Dimitri spoke made her skin crawl. All she could muster was an uncomfortable "What are you talking about?"

Hubert blinked a couple of times, face awash in confusion and anger while he took a moment to consider his words. Then, after taking another drink from his water, he returned to her. "You're right. I should have told you first."

Edelgard pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "I'm not mad about you changing things without my permission. It's your book. But it felt as though you were keeping secrets from me."

Hubert grabbed for her hand. She didn't pull away at that time. "That was not my intention, but I apologize all the same."

"Thank you, Hubert. Now, if you have a moment, I would like your opinion on some venues."

* * *

**Mercedes**

While Mercedes had taken Sylvain at his word and expected him to call, part of her anticipated that he would flake out after their kiss. She had seen how he interacted with other women, how he went out on a few dates with them until he was bored, or got what he wanted, or until  _ they  _ got bored with him. All the same, she saw how sad he was after each breakup or ghosting. She knew how he masked the pain with humor and a quick search for someone else to fill that void temporarily until he got bored or whatever led to that point. And, she felt guilty for that assumption.

As she had hoped, however, Sylvain  _ did _ call her the next day. They talked for over an hour while Mercedes worked on kneading some loaves of bread; she was trying a new sourdough starter recipe. Mercedes had expected him to be charming, to try and seduce her like one of his girls. But he wasn't like that at all when he spoke to her. Her expectations of a silver-tongued playboy were shattered when he excitedly told her about the pay raise he got at work, about how he and Felix tried this new bar and grill Ashe had recommended the other day and they had great burgers ("I'll take you there for dinner sometime; they bake their buns in house and they were so good"). There was a boyish quality to the way he spoke, and she was positively charmed by it the whole time. 

Sylvain called the next day, and the one after that as well. They met for dinner two days after that. As he promised, he took her to the bar and grill Ashe had recommended, and as he had said, she was quite impressed by the buns.

They took a walk for a little while and stopped at a local bakery where she bought a dozen macarons with fruit jam and creme filling. It was a lovely date, and part of her was ready to invite him in for coffee when they stood at her doorstep and he kissed her goodnight. She wanted to invite him in, but she was pleasantly surprised when he didn't meet her with a wink and suggestive words. He rubbed his neck nervously and promised to call her in the morning. 

* * *

Mercedes's phone began to buzz when she was on her way to the castle. She glanced up at it from its clamp in her dashboard to see Sylvain's name burning into the screen. Hesitating, her eyes darted between the road and her phone before pressing the accept button. 

"Hello, Sylvain." She said with a smile, not that he could see it.

"Mercie! You coming to the site today?" The excitement in his tone was unmistakable. 

"Yes, I am. Since the crew started clearing out the passageways to the tomb, I figured it would be best if I was on-site in the event of a collapse."

"Good," said Sylvain, "good, good. Great. Well, uh...you didn't hear it from me, but there's a  _ surprise  _ waiting for you when you get here."

Mercedes had a good idea of what he was talking about. She remembered the promise of her own trailer with heating and air conditioning. She wasn't nosy, but she  _ had  _ overheard Edelgard mentioning to Dimitri that she had one picked out, and he should go with her to take a look at it to make sure it would suit his needs as a medical trailer. She was about 95 percent certain that's what Sylvain was speaking of.

Still, she couldn't help the grin creeping across her face and the subtle "You mean, besides your presence?" that came out to tease him a little. 

Sylvain stammered a few times in an effort to find his words. She could hear him mutter something to himself that she couldn't quite make out. Then, when he returned to her, said, "I'll show you when you get here."

They ended the call and Mercedes' grin only enlarged. She had made Sylvain flustered. In that brief moment where she basked in that victory, she wondered how many other girls managed to witness him like that if any. 

* * *

Sylvain was waiting for her at the castle gates when she arrived. Every time she walked through them, there was a fleeting sense of familiarity that mingled with the alien sensation of being in a long-dead relic of the past. When Sylvain took her arm and offered to be her escort, there was something more to it. Something that made her feel like this was where she belonged.

"How is the excavation of the tomb going?" She asked, hand cinching snugly around his bicep. 

Sylvain looked just beyond some of the reconstructed buildings while he searched for his words. "Good. It's going good. It's...well, the truth is, I'm not actively involved in the excavation. Ingrid and Glenn are spearheading it, and she just kicks me out whenever I try to lend a hand."

"Oh? You would think she would welcome the added help." 

"Not from me, no. Felix has been helping a little, but any time me or Dimitri gets within eyesight of the corridor, she practically chases us away like a little old grandma with a broom. Lucky for me, Dimitri's a glutton for punishment and antsy as Hell, so he keeps going back and getting run off because he gets bored and thinks  _ this  _ time will be different."

"Oh no," Mercedes gasped, "I hope you both didn't get too hurt from her chasing you off."

Sylvain shrugged. "She doesn't actually beat us or anything. Ingrid's just afraid we're going to break some priceless carving or some shit. She's always been like that though since we were kids. Always keeping us boys in line. Though I have to admit, hearing her yell  _ 'Dimitri Alexandre Blayddid, put down that trowel right now _ ' is pretty funny."

Mercedes looked up from Sylvain's face, realizing they had come a long way from the castle gates. They were in the side courtyard, the one Dedue had referred to as the Queen's Gardens when they tried a tea shop just outside of Fhirdiad together. The brick and stone had been paved, and some of the dirt plots had been dug out for flowers later. Some of them that weren't prepared for landscaping had a smattering of wildflowers and weeds, which were pretty and a bit sad in a sense. But just beyond was a trailer, shiny and white in the midday sun with a makeshift sign hanging from the door that read  _ medic _ .

"Oh, it's lovely, Sylvain!" She clasped her hands together.

"Don't thank me," he said modestly, "Dimitri and Edelgard are the ones who ordered it. I just backed it up into the space with a truck."

"Well, I appreciate you backing it up for me." 

She kissed him on the cheek.

"Well, uh, I...I guess you can take care of all our injuries in a climate-controlled environment now."

Mercedes smiled. "How did you put it a couple months ago? Kiss your wounds in comfort?"

Sylvain's face colored red. "I.. yeah. I think I would like that."

* * *

**Annette**

She stood and watched as some of the construction crew unloaded her freshly restored paintings and carried them off to one of the rebuilt storage sheds on site until locations within the castle were repaired and decided upon. Annette was wringing her hands a little, nervous that they might drop it and damage a frame, or accidentally put a foot through the canvas or something. Something she feared she would do in that position, at least. While Glenn was directing the men to the shed, she peeked into the truck, checking to see how many were left, and was pleasantly surprised to see that there were no more.

Annette allowed herself a much-needed sigh of relief. 

That was all of them, all except the one of the King and Queen. Annette had restored it sure enough, and at Byleth's request, she was doing what she could to keep it hidden from Dimitri. She made excuses, claiming she needed a very special solvent that needed to be ordered and it was on backorder and would take a while to ship to the university. When she could no longer use that as her excuse, she said she needed a second opinion from a colleague, who just so happened to be on vacation. Excuses from there ranged from sending the frame in to be cleaned, she was given another project from her boss that was a rush job, etc.

Annette was beginning to worry that Byleth would not keep her end of their agreement and distract Dimitri until she figured out what to do. But, eventually, his requests stopped. And Annette could rest a little easier while she waited for Felix to make a decision, or Byleth gave them the go-ahead to give Dimitri the painting. 

While she stood in the courtyard, contemplating if she should go on break and drive down to Fhirdiad proper to treat herself to a frappuccino for all her hard work, she saw a figure she didn't instantly recognize approaching through the castle gates. She squinted a little and backed up half a foot, prepared to alert Glenn about the intruder when she finally got a beat on who it was.

"Hey, Claude!" She waved enthusiastically and started in a half jog towards him.

"Hey, Annette," he said, a little distracted, given how his head was swiveling around to take in the sights, "so Dimitri's got you all playing in Castle Blaiddyd?"

Annette's smile brightened. She hadn't seen Claude since their university days, though they occasionally talked on social media and did the whole  _ we should meet up for coffee _ thing, but never actually did. His presence there was certainly unexpected, but welcome nonetheless. 

"Nah. He asked us if we wanted to help, but the art restoration department would have probably had me working on some of the projects anyway. Besides, I like being here. It feels kind of like an old friend."

"Really," he asked with a raised eyebrow, "I heard the place is haunted."

"C'mon, you're sounding like Mercie or Hubert. If there's ghosts, I haven't seen any. They probably don't even exist. And if they do, they don't scare me."

Claude smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I ran into Ashe on the way up, and he seems to think otherwise. He says he thinks Dimitri might be possessed, and there's a strange woman who invited herself into your friend group and he's pretty certain she's a ghost or something."

"Ashe said all that?" She asked skeptically. 

"He  _ implied _ as much. Said Dimitri isn't acting like himself and has been blacking out again. And also that he's sort of dating a woman who broke into the castle who might also be a ghost."

Annette's hands found her hips in an exaggerated manner that was accompanied by an eye roll and a just as drawn-out sigh, "Ashe needs to stop reading those ghost stories and scaring himself."

Claude smiled a little. "Probably for the best, yeah. Remember the time in university when Mercedes told him and Lysithea about how some people think the dorms were haunted? I have on good authority that neither of them slept for a week." 

Claude chuckled a little to himself, then when he cut himself off looked towards the castle and gestured for the grand entrance with a nod to his head. "Dimitri's inside? I wanted to say hello."

"Yeah, probably. They're excavating a tunnel leading to the tomb and Ingrid keeps shooing him away, so he's probably loitering somewhere around there."

"Okay, I think I'll be going then. It was nice talking with you, Annette."

"It was nice talking with you too!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As a note, I've been caring for my niece and nephew every day, so while I'm doing my best to post on schedule, my editing may take a bit of a hit and there may be times when I have to post a day or two later. 
> 
> Thank you for understanding.
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sex scene in the portion labeled Ingrid and some descriptions of bodily wounds in the portion labeled Dedue.

**Ingrid**

After two weeks of continuous work in excavating the tomb, Ingrid had a good feeling about that day. She was pretty sure they would break through the collapse completely before sundown and finally get to see what was beyond. And they would finally have their answers about whether King Blaiddyd and Lady Byleth were real. The prospect filled her with an unfathomable about of excitement, one that would have caused her to pull several all nighters if she didn't have to cajole the workers or answer to anyone.

She ate lunch anxiously in the courtyard that day. Most everyone else had chosen to stay inside to avoid the cold, but she was hardly bothered by the cold. Besides, Felix and Glenn had left a couple of hours ago to take their mother to her birthday brunch and everyone else was either working through lunch or went off site. Ingrid didn't make it a habit to skip meals, especially as her job required so much physical exertion. On top of that, Glenn had worked so hard to prepare the meal: roasted chicken, which they had for dinner last night, but he repurposed it into a hoagie sandwich with a side salad, some seasoned rice, pickled vegetables, and a few single serving pouches of beef jerky in case she got hungry again. 

She had just about finished everything when she checked the time on her phone. There was still about fifteen minutes left in the lunch hour she allowed herself, but with all her food gone, she saw little point in wasting that time when she could be digging. So, Ingrid wiped her hands on a napkin she had rested her knees and headed towards her jeep to put her lunch containers away.

* * *

It was one of the rare days when Dimitri wasn't wringing his hands and watching from a distance because he wanted to be useful. But, he had a several days long conference and workshop related to work to attend, so it left her Dimitri free. She was grateful to not have to play babysitter to him, but in the same breath, she felt bad breaking through into the tomb without him hovering over her shoulder the entire time. 

Still, progress had to be made and she knew he would agree on that front.

She helped clear away some rubble into a wheelbarrow while one of her Teamsters continued his assault on the stone with a jackhammer. There were some niches formed already, but nothing big enough to fit a person through just yet. Then, just as she was unloading another armful into the wheelbarrow, the droning of the jackhammer stopped assaulting her in spite of the ear protection she was wearing and she looked up. 

The one with the jackhammer had abandoned it and was excitedly waving around to get her attention. She pulled her earplugs out.

"What is it?"

"We broke through the biggest stones and it practically turned to dust. You could probably fit in if you wanted to take a look ahead while we finish clearing the area."

Ingrid considered halting progress from there until everyone else was available to come to explore. But, her sense of adventure prevailed. She wanted to see it. To check for certain that this was the tomb and Blaiddyd's remains were beyond before telling everyone else. She gripped the flashlight off her tool belt and pressed her hard hat more securely down on her head, then climbed in. 

The flashlight flickered on, and Ingrid proceeded down the untouched corridor about twenty feet until she reached an archway with a staircase leading down. There were some remnants of candles that had appeared to have been lit and burned down to nothingness in the sconces that she wanted to study later to see if they could get a composition of the wax and potentially a ballpark estimate for a date. She headed down the stairs from there, only to become mad at herself for not bringing her coat with when she felt the temperature drop a noticeable five degrees and the goose pimples came up. 

There was another corridor at the base of the stairs with small alcoves she suspected were for candles or statues, though whatever on them was long gone by that point. Then, just beyond, it opened into a large chamber with two large shapes occupying the center. She approached, using the flashlight to illuminate them better, giving her a good idea that these were stone sarcophagi. 

And when she was beside them, she could see for certain, they were. One had a likeness of a woman, a woman who looked very much like the woman in the paintings. To the woman's left was her mate,  _ King Blaiddyd.  _ Like hers, his sarcophagus lid was carved with a relief of his likeness; the sight of it caused Ingrid's blood to run cold. 

* * *

"Glenn, it's the most bizarre thing," Ingrid said, throwing a handful of popcorn into her mouth, "he looked  _ just  _ like Dimitri."

After finding the sarcophagi, Ingrid had only told Ashe so that he could take a look for his thesis. And now, she was telling Glenn. It was a bizarre sort of feeling like she had just made a fantastic discovery that would help preserve Faerghus history. Yet, at the same time, she felt as though she had just seen a friend's resting place, and for a second time on top of that. 

"That is weird. I wish I could have been there so I could have seen it with you." His hand found her thigh.

She could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. Glenn wanted her at that moment. Something about making big discoveries on a dig always seemed to get his blood flowing and made him desire her. Ingrid was much the same way; accomplishing something like this never failed to ignite the flame within her. Though she knew Glenn wouldn't be the one to suggest it. It was something in those Fraldarius genes, she joked, that made them painfully blunt in all matters except in matters of the heart. 

Ingrid set the half-eaten bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table. "Do you want to go to bed?"

Glenn looked up from the movie, though he still wasn't meeting her gaze directly. Still, she could see the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he set it in stone once more.

* * *

Ingrid shut her eyes and submitted herself to the simple pleasures of Glenn. There he was on top of her, pressing himself deeper and deeper into her, the sheets pulled around them both. They had turned out the lights so she couldn't make out his features, not that she could with her eyes shut as they were. Still, she could envision his face, see the freckle on the left side of his jaw, know how his face would be etched in pleasure as he continued. 

It was familiar, predictable, even. But Ingrid was far from bored of their lovemaking.

She cinched her legs around him. Did she take her birth control that day, she wondered while he hit the spot that caused her to gasp. Yes, she had. With dinner like she had for the last four years. Did he remember the condom? Of course, she had been the one to hand it to him. She loved Glenn, but she was far from ready for children and needed to make her mental checklist, even then. 

"Gl...Glenn…"

One of her arms found his back while the other gripped the sheet surrounding them both. His touch was like electricity jolting through her. Ingrid sucked a ragged breath in, pulse rising to meet the rhythm of Glenn's inside her.

"Uh...uh...Ingrid."

He buried his face in her neck, kissing the crook of her neck. 

Her hand on his back slid upwards, into his hair. It was damp and stringy with sweat. The smell of them intermingled, filling their bedroom with the musk. Ingrid's legs cinched tighter, drawing him closer. She was close, and she wanted to draw him in. 

Glenn fell on top of her. His breath was shallow and ragged. Eyes dilated. They were both drenched in sweat. Later, they would have to wash the sheets, but she wasn't thinking about that then.

All she was thinking of was Glenn.

Her Glenn, who made her lunches and was so brave and strong. Who could be so bull-headed at times, but it only added to his charm. 

Her Glenn, who she wouldn't let die again if she had a say in it.

"Oh…oh...Glenn…!"

"Me...me too Ingrid." 

* * *

**Hubert**

He probably wasn't supposed to go down to the catacombs without Express permission from Dimitri or Edelgard, Hubert knew this. He should have probably waited until the morning at least, if not until they had cleared the tunnel completely. Still, he saw no better chance to get a look at them than under the shadow of night, so much so that he had to laugh at himself for the humor of him writing a vampire novel, and he was exploring the real-world inspiration for it under cover of night. 

Still, he didn't want to bother Edelgard with asking permission so he could poke around for details. And asking Dimitri for another favor was out of the question. 

Hubert switched the flashlight on and hit the record button on his phone. "The catacombs seemed to have been continually lit up until the time they were no longer able to be accessed, given the wax droppings still on the wall. This leads me to believe King Blaiddyd was well-loved and even after his death, was visited by his subjects. Perhaps I could rewrite the portion about the Ashen Demon's wails to be about her husband's mourners hearing her from within her own sarcophagus."

He continued further, swishing his phone's flashlight from side to side to get a better look at the chamber. It was sparse, devoid of any ornamentation. Hubert was no historian, though he had seen pictures of other burial chambers. This one, in comparison to those, felt somehow barren, like it was stripped of everything that meant something to its occupants.

The sarcophagi were ornate in stark contrast to the rest of the chamber. Hubert approached, scanning his flashlight over the both of them in a sweeping motion to get a better look. And, like the painting he had sent to Linhardt, the man was of a striking resemblance to Dimitri. At this point, he was far from surprised that the second sarcophagus bore a resemblance to the green-haired woman. 

Still, he had questions, more questions than he had answers for. 

And it was time that he brought it to someone else.

* * *

Edelgard's face was set in stone while she looked over the various pictures Hubert had acquired over the months. To someone who didn't know her as well, she would appear impassive, unfeeling. But, he knew her better than that. He knew her well enough to know that this confused her as much as it confused him.

"I could pass the resemblance that woman has to the figure in the paintings off as coincidence, but the fact that your stepbrother resembles Blaiddyd so strongly, and these two ended up finding each other, I'm having a hard time passing it off as coincidence any longer."

"You don't believe in magic or the occult." Edelgard said quickly, though her voice lacked the conviction to make it obvious that she believed herself.

"I...know," he downed his cup of coffee in one gulp; it was his third since coming home from the castle, "Or at least, I didn't. But Linhardt seems to think it's reincarnation or something to that effect. I thought he was talking nonsense until I saw the sarcophagi for myself."

Edelgard set his phone down and slid it across their dining table towards him. Without his phone in her hands, she settled for the glass of water she had poured herself to occupy them. "I...I wish this didn't make as much sense as it did." Her tone was shaky. 

"You've been having the dreams too." Hubert said simply.

She nodded. "Yes. The ones about a war. About...about us meeting my stepbrother and his friends on the battlefield. I…"

Edelgard's eyes had gone glassy and a bit far away. She was a strong woman, stronger than anyone knew, but this troubled her. And if she was bothered by this, so was Hubert. He placed his hand atop hers and stroked the knuckles gently. 

"Whatever this is, be it a shared hallucination or converging past lives as Linhardt believes, we're going to make it through this. I will always be here for you." He had the impression that he always had been.

Edelgard nodded and looked down at her water. "I...think we should probably keep these hallucinations to ourselves until we know a bit more. Please don't share any more with Linhardt if you don't have to."

"As long as you promise not to tell Dorothea when you two meet up again for dinner."

"Of course."

* * *

**Dedue**

"How is your conference going?" 

Dedue stood in the mouth of the corridor leading into the catacombs with his phone pressed to his ear. Ashe was watching from deeper within, flashlight function on his phone burning bright in the darkness. Felix and Ingrid had some lights brought in to help illuminate the space, but due to the sheer size, it was little more than dim light in an all-consuming darkness. 

"It's fine. I wish I could have been in town to see the tomb." Dimitri's tone was sad as he spoke. 

"I understand. You wanted to be the first to see it."

There was silence on the other end, and then, "But you said Lady Byleth was there? In the tomb with him?"

"I haven't been down to see it, but from what Ingrid and the others have said, there is a sarcophagus beside Blaiddyd with a woman bearing a likeness to the paintings carved into the lid."

"Good. That's wonderful. I can't wait to write up a formal report on our findings. We're going to be in the history books for this."

"It sounds like you finally resolved what is drawing you to the castle." Dedue looked to Ashe, who was patiently staring at the screen of his phone while he waited.

"I...I suppose. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should be going. I have another workshop to attend in an hour and I wanted to take a shower and call Byleth before then."

"Understood. I will see you when you get back."

Dedue hung up his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He headed over to Ashe, who had since stopped his scrolling of social media to look up at Dedue.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

They walked several feet silently, the light from Ashe's phone illuminating their path. Ashe was tense, his steps timid and unsure as he proceeded down the dark passageway. Dedue could only figure he was scared; dark, moldering places like the castle put him on edge without fail. He grabbed for his hand.

Ashe laughed anxiously. "Sorry, this place gives me the creeps." He didn't release Dedue's hand, though.

When they stepped into the chamber properly, Ashe gave an involuntary shudder and Dedue squeezed his hand for reassurance. He smiled warmly back as thanks.

Eventually, Ashe mustered up his courage and released Dedue's hand. He pushed forward, fingers trailing along the cool stone of the sarcophagi while he observed the stone reliefs on both. His eyes were locked on the one of Lady Byleth when he said, "It's really quite sad, isn't it? Finding this castle and knowing they're real. And feeling that sadness because you just  _ know _ they both died young."

A sudden wave of nausea took Dedue when he stepped up to look at the relief of King Blaiddyd. His head hurt, and his vision went shaky for a moment. Around him, he thought he saw the chamber illuminated as it would have been when the castle was still functioning. There were possessions laden about that he didn't remember when they stepped in. Blaiddyd's ancestral lance lain across the sarcophagus. Lady Byleth's sword propped against hers. A woman in old fashioned clothes came walking in with an armful of white lilies and deposited half on each sarcophagus. She was a servant, but tears still welled up in the corners of her eyes while she bowed her head at Ashe and Dedue on her way out. Ashe. Even he was dressed strangely in something more old fashioned. He had a quiver strapped to his back and his knuckles had gone white from how tight he was gripping the bow in his left hand.

This was all a hallucination, Dedue knew that and was scared of what that meant. Even so, this one came with an overwhelming sense of sadness and guilt. He knelt beside Blaiddyd's sarcophagus because something told him it was the right thing to do and placed his hand atop the stone likeness of the King's. 

"I should have been there to protect you and Lady Byleth from the intruder." He said as if someone had guided him to. Despite how much he felt as though he was being fed words, something felt strangely familiar about them.

"I am...was your vassal. It was my duty to protect you. I have failed the both of you and do not deserve to be a Knight of Faerghus for this."

As he spoke the words, the vision faded and he was left in the dark chamber with Ashe. Like him, he had taken a knee beside the sarcophagi. Tears streaked down his face; Dedue only noticed them due to the flashlight. When he looked up to meet his gaze, Dedue saw an unmistakable sense of confusion and awareness on Ashe that he hadn't expected.

The hallucination, it was a shared one.

More still was the torrent of memories of this other Dedue pouring into his head. He knew what happened to Blaiddyd. To Lady Byleth. He knew why their stories ended so abruptly.

"They were murdered in their sleep." Dedue croaked.

Ashe nodded. "Yeah."

"The intruder managed to slip in undetected and found their bedchamber." Flashes of the bloody scene played out in his head. Blaiddyd with his throat torn open. Lady Byleth, clinging to life desperately, only to die two days later from her wounds and blood loss. It had looked like an animal did it, with the bite marks on both of them and the rending of their flesh. But Byleth, in the fleeting moment of clarity when they found her said it had been a man before she fell into her neverending sleep. 

"Dedue, I…" Ashe cut himself off. His eyes darted elsewhere in the chamber, looking for something that Dedue did not understand. 

When he returned to meet his gaze, Dedue noticed something like fear and understanding behind his eyes; the sight of it was disarming, though he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Whatever was happening in the castle and with them, it was coming to a head with the discovery of Blaiddyd's resting place.

* * *

**Byleth**

She hadn't stepped foot in the burial chamber since Seteth had felt it was necessary to seal the corridor and hide her existence. Byleth had lost track of the decades since then, and while it felt so far away to walk through those halls as the grieving widow, it also felt like it had only been yesterday since she visited her husband in her mourning clothes with a fresh bouquet to replace the ones that had probably wilted since her last visit.

This time, she was not dressed for mourning, though she had considered bringing flowers since it had been so long since she had last done so. Did he know that she hadn't visited him? Was he watching her beyond what she suspected through Dimitri's gaze?

Byleth only paid her own sarcophagus a passing glance. She recalled the horror of waking up in it and trying to claw her way out. The stone wouldn't budge no matter how hard she tried or how loud she screamed. And the hunger. The  _ hunger _ . It burned inside her, all-consuming and terrible. She needed to eat, and what she wanted to eat was just as terrible. 

Her eyes met her husband's stone counterpart, and all she could think to do was climb atop the sarcophagus. While she laid there, she wished he could wrap his arms around her, to bring her some modicum of comfort when everything around her was so uncertain. 

She rolled onto her side and met the stone gaze once more. His face was so harsh when carved like that. It lacked the warmth he had when he looked at her, and the light that sparkled in his one perfect eye. 

_ The light that sparkled in Dimitri's one perfect eye when he looked at her _ .

"My love, what are you doing to that poor man?"

Somehow, she convinced herself that he would say something. 

While she laid there waiting for words that would never come, Byleth was consumed with thoughts of Dimitri. Thoughts of his sad smile, the way that he managed to find his way beyond her walls without even trying. It was more than her husband's words, and touch, and face that drew her to him. There was an awkward sincerity there. The passion in his tone when he talked about history, his family, or his friends. How she could only cringe when she saw how he fed himself when no one else was around to see, and somehow even that was oddly charming. 

It was like her husband's spirit had guided her here after all this time. That he recognized his rebirth and sought to be with her once more. 

And she had a suspicion that Rhea had known ever since they met to discuss selling the castle and had been instrumental in bringing them together.

* * *

"Rhea, can we talk?"

Byleth had taken the time to compose herself before making the call. She could still see the castle in her rearview mirror; leaving just seemed wrong for some reason. Her former home gave her strength in a sense. It was where she had been her happiest in life, and those happy memories would guide her through this. 

"Hello, Byleth. You're calling about the castle, yes?"

Byleth bit her bottom lip. "Yes. Why did you allow it to be sold?"

She shuffled against the seat, afraid of what Rhea might say even though she knew in her heart of hearts what would come out from this. Still, she didn't know if she was ready to hear it, no matter how much she felt it all around her.

"Byleth, surely you've noticed the strange way about that man. You're an observant woman if anything." Rhea's tone was ever kind and even, yet there was a pit in Byleth's stomach that couldn't be resolved by gentle words.

"I...I don't know what is what right now. I need to hear you say it."

"I see. Then I will explain it to you. I knew when I met that man that he was your husband reborn. He didn't know it then, though I suspect he's getting close to the realization now that his pull to the castle is his former self wanting to return to something familiar. I pitied him then when he told me of his connection to the castle and his desire to breathe life into it, so I made a decision then. I should have consulted you first, and for that, I'm sorry."

"Why did you take my paintings out of storage and return them to the castle?" She was doing anything to occupy her hands, playing with the steering wheel, turning the dials of the radio. Anything to feel a bit distracted.

"I thought you would be delighted to have your husband return to you and left things that may serve to jog his memory around for him to find. I didn't mean any malice by it and I apologize for the hurt it may have caused."

Byleth was on the brink of tears. She was upset and couldn't figure why. Her heart hurt. Her head was pounding. The hunger felt as though it would tear her apart from inside out. Part of her wanted to return to the way things were half a year ago before Dimitri came into her life; she was comfortably numb then and accepted that. It was easy to go through the motions then, to feel nothing and live this existence in that nothingness.

Yet, part of her knew she stood at the precipice of the unknown and wanted to have that leap of faith. Whatever outcome, whatever happened from there, it had to be better than the apathy, the empty nights alone. 

"Will this Dimitri be gone entirely if he's awakened to his past self?" 

"I cannot tell for certain, but I do not believe so."

"I see. Thank you."

The call dropped and Byleth rested her head against the headrest. Tears were streaming down her face, though she made no effort to mop them up. 

She knew what she needed to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to apologize for the late update. The day I was supposed to update, I ended up having to go to the ER for injuries and took the rest of the day and the weekend off to focus on recovering. I won't be posting on my regular day this week either to focus on my recovery, but I should be back on my regular schedule starting the following week. 
> 
> Warnings for this Chapter:
> 
> There's some potentially troubling talk of mental health and injuries throughout, and there's sexual content in the section labeled Sylvain.

**Felix**

For the past three days, construction crews had been working around the clock to clear out the remaining rubble from the corridor leading down to the catacombs. The way through was clear enough for them to make it through, but part of the restoration process was ultimately clearing everything up completely. 

Felix had been down there the day prior. He wanted to see the tomb for himself, see if it really was as the others described, with the sarcophagi resembling Dimitri and his  _ friend _ . Felix didn't place much stock in the resemblance. Or else, he wouldn't have for the paintings and strange behavior. All he knew was something was odd about these coincidences and that oddness made his stomach go up in knots.

Even worse was he promised Annette a solution to their problems with the painting resembling Dimitri and he still didn't have one. He felt like a failure for not having an answer to that and worse still for asking her to continue to fabricate excuses in order to keep Dimitri off both of their backs about it. He didn't know how much longer she could, and ultimately feared Dimitri's impatience resulting in him storming the restoration department to see it.

So that morning before going to the castle, he picked her up one of those sweet coffee drinks that were more sugar than caffeine to thank her. 

As he walked into the courtyard, drink in hand, he saw Annette hopping off the back of a small truck while two teamsters unloaded an object that he could only assume was a painting.

_ The _ painting. 

Felix took off in a brisk walk that turned into a jog. He nearly tossed her drink to the ground as instinct but managed to keep hold of it for the duration of his trek over despite himself.

When Annette saw him, her face lit up and she wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. Felix wasn't normally one for such brazen displays of affection, but something about her doing that just then helped calm his nerves a little.

"Is this for me?" She asked, snatching up the drink before he had a chance to explain. Not that he needed to; Felix wouldn't be caught dead with one of those basically-a-milkshake type drinks. 

"What's going on?" He asked, gesturing towards the teamsters with the painting. 

"It's okay," she said in a way that was meant to calm him; it didn't, "Byleth said it's fine. She said Dimitri can see it."

"Byl-fucking Seiros, Annette," he rubbed the bridge of his nose, not frustrated with her, just the entire situation, "do you think this is the best idea? We hardly know Byleth."

Annette bought herself some time by sipping on her drink. "I...yes, I do. I...I can't explain why, but I feel like I could tell her anything, and that I've known her for a very long time."

A pit formed in his stomach when she said that. Mainly because he knew the sensation all too well. He hadn't spoken to the woman much beyond meaningless pleasantries whenever Dimitri brought her around, but there was a gnawing at the edge of his senses that told him that he knew her. That he always had. And, as much as he wanted to tell himself that this was stupid and try to brush it off, he knew he couldn't. He felt it more potently with Annette, though he would never use those words to describe how he felt when he looked at her and got the flashes of her in period clothes singing archaic little tunes.

He stuffed his hands his pockets and turned toward the teamsters to watch the painting being carried to the shed with the other paintings. 

"So, we're just going to let him see the painting that looks just like him." 

It was more a statement than a question. Still, Annette pulled her mouth off the straw with an audible  _ pop  _ and looked toward him. "Byleth seemed pretty convinced that this is the best thing to do. And I trust her."

"Well, if you trust her, I guess I should too."

Annette nodded gleefully, which sent his stomach up in butterflies despite having officially been a couple a while. He ignored that sensation and set his expression firmly.

"I wanna see the tomb," Annette said between sips of her coffee drink, "Mercie said it was a little creepy, but I think it should be fine if you're there."

The fluttering in his stomach grew stronger. 

As they walked, he could see how Annette's body tensed, how her large, expressive eyes grew wide and head swiveled around anxiously at any large shadows that the sparing light they had cast. Her coffee drink was completely ignored. She was sensible enough to not believe in ghosts as Ashe did. But the dark, he knew that was something that bothered her. Ghosts and monsters didn't lurk in the dark, but people with weapons who could do you harm did.

Felix wasn't one for grand gestures. He wasn't the sort to squeeze her hand to tell her that everything was going to be alright. But, he could tell that she was nervous and he felt guilty for not doing anything for her. Reaching down, he grazed her fingers with his in an effort to make her feel safe with his presence there beside her.

Annette looked up to him, her mouth cut in a warm smile. The sight took his breath away.

* * *

**Edelgard**

It felt weird being in the office after spending so much time out in the field. She had a pen in her left hand, tapping it on her desk while she sat at her computer and read through her most recent case. In a way, Edelgard felt out sorts; she had another dream about this  _ other _ Edelgard that night and had hardly slept. When she woke up, she talked to Hubert about it. This one was about her death, about Dimitri bringing his lance down on her neck after she refused his hand in surrender. She woke when the lance made contact, just before her head was cleaved from her body.

These dreams, they troubled her, and she said as much to Hubert when they ate their breakfast together. They didn't always see eye to eye, but the idea of being at odds with him left her shaken for the rest of the day. 

She tossed her pen onto her desk and rubbed her temples when the memories came circulating back to the forefront. Edelgard sighed and reached for her water bottle. She was popping off the cap when she noticed Rufus heading over to her desk. He hadn't been in the office much recently. It started with his birthday, needing a week off to go sit on a beach somewhere with his latest fling. After that, it was another two days to recover, he was feeling sick, and a bunch of excuses that she was tired of keeping track of. Lambert didn't seem to mind, or he wasn't saying it outright if he was. But then again, he was typically the sort to keep such things to himself. 

"Do you need something, Rufus?" She asked, putting her water bottle down. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I was wondering how the castle project is going. I texted Dimitri about it, but he didn't respond. I talked to your dad about it and he said it's the same thing. That Dimitri hasn't been responding to texts."

"He's away at a conference and won't be back until later today," she placed her hand atop her phone in case she needed a distraction, "it's going fine, though. You should ask him more about it when he gets back in town."

Rufus cracked a smile and placed his hand on his forehead. Whatever he found so amusing, Edelgard was struggling to see it. "Here I thought he was so absorbed with his new girlfriend that he wasn't responding to texts."

"No. He's away at a conference."

"Okay, well, I'll let you get back to work."

Rufus went back to his office and Edelgard was left at her desk. The truth was, Dimitri had been a bit aloof lately. He stopped responding to texts, and if he did, it was several hours after the fact and with hardly more than a one-word reply. She knew he was having the dreams again even if he didn't say it outright. She knew he was blacking out. And she knew he was growing distant in part to that.

The other part was that Byleth really  _ was  _ consuming what little free time he didn't dedicate to the castle. She made him happy, at least from what Edelgard could see from the outside, but something about Byleth was odd. Like she was keeping a massive secret that would change everything if it came to light. 

* * *

Edelgard made an excuse about needing to pick up lunch that afternoon so that she could leave her office for a time and clear her head. The stuff with Dimitri was eating at her and the fact that he wasn't even responding to Rufus made her even more concerned. Rufus may have been a sleazebag, but as long as she had been part of their family, she never knew Dimitri to leave someone, especially family, on read like that. 

While she was driving around a bit, she worked up the will to call him and get to the bottom of things. In her heart of hearts, she knew what it was and was mad that he didn't seek help on it. But she also knew that he probably was keeping it to himself because he knew that she was going to grill him if she knew.

After going back and forth on it for some time, Edelgard finally called him. On the second ring, she turned the phone on speaker and tossed it into her passenger seat. 

"Hey, El." Dimitri said nonchalantly when he answered. Something about it caused her to bristle.

"Don't  _ hey El  _ me. Why aren't you responding to texts?" Her frustration came to the forefront. She felt instantly guilty for it.

"El, I can-"

"-cut the bullshit, Dimitri. You're blacking out again, aren't you? And you're avoiding your family because you're afraid we'll notice."

Dimitri didn't respond. She could imagine his expression, knew how his face would be awash with intermingled anger and hurt. That guilt from moments ago came back to the forefront. 

"We're your  _ family _ Dimitri, for good or bad. If you're blacking out again, you should tell us so we can help you get the help you need."

"None of the doctors I saw did shit for me," The sudden burst of anger took her back, "I just...I just need more time."

"More time? What is that supposed to mean?"

There was another pause from Dimitri. He came back with a calm, but confused, "I don't know."

Edelgard sighed. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened while she tried to think of what to say. "Dimitri, we're worried for you. And this time, you don't have our parents hovering over you to make sure you're improving because you live alone."

"They never went away, El. The blackouts. I just got better at hiding them. I...I can't explain it but I just feel like everything will eventually make sense and it'll all be fine. I just need time to figure that out."

She pursed her lips. "Okay. I won't tell anyone about the blackouts for a little longer, but if you don't start improving and continue ignoring your family, you need to get help."

"I...okay. I have to go now. I'm about to board the plane."

Edelgard made it to her destination, but she remained in the car for a time after. She was out of breath. The pit of her stomach had grown to the point of nausea. Reaching for her phone, she considered calling Hubert, or even their mother to tell her about Dimitri's behavior. He was worrying her, and it worried her even more that she felt like she had no one she could talk to about it without betraying his trust.

But she promised him time to figure it out on his own, so she would let him have that. 

* * *

**Sylvain**

Sylvain checked his phone a second time to make sure he was waiting in the right bay for Dimitri. He had agreed to pick him up from the airport after his trip. As much as he didn't like having to take time out of his day, he knew Dimitri would have done the same for him and felt a guilt rise to his stomach when he had thought of refusing. There was something that always seemed to inspire guilt in Dimitri's face, not that he was aware of this power he had. He just had a sense of sadness in the eye that never failed to send Sylvain's stomach in knots.

Which was why he was sitting in his car with some top 40's song he didn't really care for playing in the background while he waited.

Mercedes texted him again and his heart gave a jolt at the thought. Sylvain grappled for his phone off the stand and read her message quickly. 

_ Dedue says Dimitri would like to see the tomb _

Of fucking course, he would.

Sylvain expected as much. He had imagined, ever since Ingrid had texted him about the tomb that he had been on edge at his conference. They joked among themselves that he would exchange his plane ticket for one departing that day if possible. He hadn't, though Sylvain had heard he was texting Dedue like mad, asking for shots of the sarcophagi so he could study between workshops. He couldn't imagine anything duller than that, sitting at a hotel room desk and poring over his phone to glean details from a picture. But, he had never been as dedicated as Dimitri to research.

_ I figured as much. _

He looked up from his phone and luckily saw Dimitri heading over to the car while he pulled his rolling suitcase behind him. He waved a little when he saw Sylvain's sportscar as if to signal him to unlock the trunk that the car didn't have. Sylvain shrugged in response and unlocked the doors anyway. 

To lend weight to this, Dimitri rounded the car, where Sylvain observed him scratching his head for a moment before heading over to one of the rear passenger doors and dropping his suitcase in the rear seat.

Sylvain waited until Dimitri was in the car and had his seat buckled before asking, "Am I dropping you off at your house?"

Dimitri flexed his fingers on his thighs, eye darting around the car before asking, "Actually, could we go by the castle first? I really want to see the catacombs."

Sylvain threw the car into drive and pulled out of the spot, "I guess. Mercie's still there, and I think Felix and Annette might still be working too."

"Good. Good. I...thank you. I haven't been able to sleep because all I can think of is the catacombs."

"Yeah, sure. No problem." Sylvain would have preferred to drop him off at his apartment though.

* * *

They had just barely walked into the courtyard when Sylvain saw Annette in the distance. She and Felix were talking near the storage shed where the paintings were kept, initially oblivious to their presence until she looked over to the gates. She waved and took off in a brisk walk over to them.

"Hey, Sylvain! How was your conference, Dimitri?"

"Good. But I'm happy to be working at the castle again."

Annette nodded, turned her gaze back to the shed, and returned with, "I...uh...I finished that last painting if you want to take a look."

"Excellent. Sylvain, would you like to join us?"

"Sure. Let me just text Mercedes and see if she wants to join us."

Several minutes later and they were stepping into the shed. Sylvain didn't know why, but his palms had gone clammy and he was struggling to breathe. 

Before them, Annette checked each of the paintings from under their protective tarps until she found the one she was looking for. Briefly, he caught her look to Felix, who gave her a stilted nod. With a reciprocated nod, she pulled back the sheet, revealing the painting.

His eyes were instantly drawn to the man of the painting, the man who looked so much like Dimitri and who was gazing down at the green-haired woman so lovingly. His breath hitched when the sense of familiarity washed over him. Mercedes reached out for his hand, possibly feeling the same sort of recognition that he did and was just as alarmed by it.

Dimitri took a step towards the painting. His eye was far away and dreamy, the way he looked when he was blacking out. Except something about it, this time did not feel like a blackout. Dimitri placed a hand to Lady Byleth's, the one with the emerald wedding band that Sylvain felt like he had seen somewhere recently. He looked as though he may have started crying, but when Sylvain was sure he would, he turned away from the painting and looked to the others.

"I would like to see the catacombs now, please." He said in a soft voice.

The walk through the castle was an uncomfortable one. Sylvain felt like he would be sick though he couldn't figure out why. There was a tangible silence between them, one that felt like it had sucked the air out of his lungs. Occasionally, he would look to Mercedes to gauge her reaction. Her face was placid and calm, her neutral smile on her face. Once, she must have felt his gaze on her and turned to him, the smile growing on her face when their eyes met. The sight caused his heart to leap into his throat.

Goddess, they had been seeing each other a few weeks and he still hadn't gotten over the butterflies in his stomach.

If the walk to the catacombs had been uncomfortable, stepping into them was damn near painful. He felt a chill descend his spine when Dimitri broke away from the group and, like he was in a trance, stepped toward Lady Byleth's sarcophagus. 

He fell to his knees before it, stroking the stone face with the side of his hand and muttering to himself. Sylvain couldn't make out what he was saying, but whatever it was, it made his blood run cold.

"My beloved," his voice quivered as his hand danced over her hands, "I should have fought harder. I should have protected you." Tears were streaming down his face as he spoke.

"Dimitri, are you okay?" Mercedes stepped forward. She kept a wide berth, but her hand was extended as if to touch his shoulder.

He looked up, but not at Mercedes. His eye flitted between Felix and Sylvain. "Please. Help me open the lid."

Felix crossed his arms. "This is a bad idea. We should go."

"I don't care if it's a bad idea!" His voice cut through the silence, hoarse and angry. Both Annette and Mercedes had taken several steps back in response.

Then, like a switch, Dimitri was back to crying, back to throwing his weight against the lid of Lady Byleth's sarcophagus. The stone moved several inches, but the weight of it was just too much for Dimitri alone to handle. He looked back to Sylvain.

"Please. I just need to see her. I need to see her, Sylvain."

Against his better judgment, Sylvain found himself stepping toward the sarcophagus. Felix shouted something, but Sylvain didn't register what he was saying. He flanked the sarcophagus with Dimitri, guiding the lid down gently while Dimitri threw his weight against it once more.

The lid landed on the stone floor with a soft  _ thud _ . Clouds of dust kicked up around him, causing him to cough quite a bit and rub his eyes. 

"Where is she? Where is she?" Dimitri's voice grew in volume as he repeated himself. He had both of his hands planted on the lip of the sarcophagus, gaze fixed on the contents. He raked his hand through his hair, oblivious to everything but the sarcophagus.

When the dust settled, Sylvain peered into the sarcophagus himself and was shocked to find it empty. Nothing that suggested anyone had ever been laid to rest in its confines. Nothing except some faint rust-colored smears that looked way too much like fingerprints to sit well with Sylvain. He looked up from the sarcophagus to see Dimitri's frenzied expression, the panic etched on his face as he stared down into the sarcophagus and found nothing.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the chamber. Sylvain whipped his head around, afraid of what he might see as much as he didn't want to admit it. His breath hitched, then released it when he saw Claude walk through the archway and into the chamber.

"Ingrid sent me dow-"

"-Where is she? What did you do to my wife?" Dimitri's howls echoed through the chamber as he advanced forward.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Dimitri shot forward toward Claude. Claude fell back several steps. When Dimitri was reaching out to grasp at Claude's shirt, but stopped short. He gripped both sides of his head, fell to his knees. His anger had so quickly turned to agony. 

"Are you okay?" Mercedes stepped forward again, arm outstretched a second time.

"Mercedes, back away from him." Sylvain walked up to her and stepped between her and Dimitri. He didn't see any anger directed towards Mercedes, not while he was doubled over and screaming in agony, but he couldn't be too careful. If anything happened to Mercedes while he was there to stop it, he would never forgive himself.

Then, just as suddenly as Dimitri had turned on them, he collapsed onto the stone. He was alive, given the rise and fall of his back, but he was also clearly unconscious. 

* * *

With Claude and Felix's help, Sylvain was able to get Dimitri in his incapacitated state to Mercedes' trailer. She led the way, with Annette following behind the men to make sure everything was alright. They laid him down on the cot in the trailer while Mercedes flitted around the space, fetching various medical supplies as she did. She took a washcloth she had stored in a drawer and ran it under the faucet in what was once the kitchen and returned to Dimitri's side.

"Me and Annette are gonna get out of here," Felix said, staring down at Dimitri on the cot, "make sure the jackass gets home safe, okay?"

"I'll even check in on him in the morning."

Felix looked at the ground. "Okay."

Mercedes was dabbing Dimitri's head with the washcloth as Felix walked out. As calm as her manner was, Claude was pacing about nervously, hands shoved in his pants pockets while he did.

"What the fuck happened down there? What's wrong with him?"

Sylvain shook his head. What could he say? What words could he use to explain all the weird things that had been going on with Dimitri and to the rest of them over these months? He fumbled with his hands, fiddling with his phone in his pocket while he tried to find something in his mind that could serve as an explanation. 

"I...Dimitri has blackouts, and they've been getting progressively more strange since we started working on the castle. I think they may have something to do  _ with  _ the castle."

Claude sat down in Mercedes' abandoned chair.

Dimitri began to stir, and Sylvain automatically found himself serving as a shield between him and Mercedes once more. Dimitri's eye flickered open, and he cast Sylvain a confused look. 

"Where am I?"

"You fainted in the catacombs. We brought you back to my medical trailer." Mercedes placed a hand to Sylvain's arm. She was asking him without words to let her closer. Heeding her request, he sidestepped to give her a better look at him.

Dimitri sat up. He rubbed his face and looked around the trailer. His fingers flexed on his thighs like he was looking for something to grasp.

"How are you feeling?"

"I...better," he looked around the trailer once again, "I need to go. I need to talk to Byleth."

"Wait. You're just all of the sudden fine?" Asked Claude.

"Yes. Yeah. I feel better than I have in a long time. But I need to talk to Byleth. I need to see her. Claude, could you drive me to my apartment?" He was already climbing off the cot and heading for the door to the trailer.

"Uh...sure?" Claude followed him toward the door, shrugging at Mercedes and Sylvain as he did.

"What about your luggage?" Sylvain asked.

"I'll get it from you tomorrow. I just, I need to see her now."

Dimitri and Claude were gone, leaving him and Mercedes alone. He took a much-needed breath in and fell back onto the cot. Sylvain watched as Mercedes organized her medical supplies, though as he did, he felt a pain shoot through his side. When he looked down, he saw his shirt had torn and there was a bit of blood staining the fabric. 

"Shit, I must have cut myself when helping with the sarcophagus." Sylvain said, pressing his hand into the spot.

"Let me look at that. Please take off your shirt." Mercedes gathered up her things and dumped them onto the cot beside him. She then rolled her chair over to him and sat down.

Sylvain pulled his shirt over his head and winced when the pain bloomed. Mercedes quickly grabbed for her alcohol pad and ripped it open. It stung a little when she pressed it to the wound, but Mercedes had such a gentle touch that Sylvain could endure it.

"Oh, this isn't so bad." She said softly, dropping the used alcohol wipe in the trash can. She grabbed her gauze and pressed it into the wound. He couldn't take his eyes off her, not while she took out her medical tape and pressed it into his skin. 

Her gaze caught his longer than either of them had realized. Something about her was magnetically pulling him to her, something that felt beyond genetic to him. Sylvain wanted to kiss her, wanted to  _ show _ her how much he cared because words always seemed to fail him when he was with her. 

Mercedes made no effort to move, but she was looking into her lap despite the hand resting on his thigh. 

"Well, uh, I guess I should probably get dressed and leave."

Her face flushed pink. "Perhaps you could stay here with me a little while longer."

Before he could question her intent, Mercedes had sealed his mouth with hers. She was warm and sweet as always, but there was something different about the way she kissed him then, something more passionate and desperate. As caught off guard as he was, Sylvain placed his hand to the back of her head and drew her against him. 

When they separated, Sylvain studied her face as if to divine some sort of meaning behind her actions. All he could think, all he could see was how beautiful she was, how much his heart yearned for her.

"Mercie," he said, voice hoarse, "if you don't want to…"

"I do." Both of her hands were on his thighs. 

"Here? I mean, we can go back to my place, or maybe we can get a hotel if we can't go back to your house, or-" He argued, but something in Sylvain felt like here, on the castle grounds, felt like the right place. 

"-Sylvain, I can't explain it, but something about doing it here feels right."

"I...okay. But do you have any...uh...protection?"

"I keep some in my medical supplies just in case someone needs any."

Mercedes gathered up her medical supplies and methodically put them away. Sylvain couldn't take his eyes off her the entire time. The sway of her hips when she walked over to the cabinet was mesmerizing. Her brushing a lock of wheat-colored hair behind her ear was downright infectious. Everything about Mercedes drove him wild, though, at the same time, he felt so incredibly disarmed by her. With other girls, it was easy. He was on autopilot, going through the motions until he was tugging his pants back on after. But with her, he felt so inexperienced, like this was his first time. And that same nervousness knotted up in his stomach. 

While she got the condom, Sylvain worked on unbuttoning his pants, though his hands were shaky and unsure while he tugged his jeans down around his thighs. 

She returned and placed the condom down on the cot beside him while she worked on her clothing. Sylvain watched, watched as she revealed herself to him like a flower opening its petals. Heat rose to Sylvain's face while he watched her shed her layers. 

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm fine, you're just so beautiful."

She turned away, "I think you're very beautiful too."

"Come here," Sylvain spread his arms out to her, "let me hold you."

Mercedes straddled his legs. She was so soft in his arms, so perfect. 

They kissed again. And again. Sylvain tried to claim every inch of her face, every bit of skin on her shoulders and neck. He was determined to show her how much he cared about her at that moment, how much she meant to him. How this was nothing like any relationship he had been in before and he was equal parts nervous and excited to move forward with her. 

Eventually, Sylvain grappled for the condom beside him. He tore it open and rolled it down his teeming cock that had been aching for her since she had undressed. While he did, she positioned herself atop him, lining herself up with him for when he was ready. 

Goddess, for as religious a woman as she was, she was wildly sexy.

Sylvain also positioned himself beneath her. He groaned audibly when he felt her warmth spread across him.

Mercedes gasped, and in response, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Do you want to stop, Baby?" He asked, though his words were muffled in her sweet skin.

"No…I want to."

She started, rising and falling on him. Rolling her hips a little. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ She felt amazing and perfect. Mercedes braced her hands against his shoulders while she pulled herself up.  _ Just like that, Baby. Take what you want from me _ . 

Her heavy breaths grew to the point of breathy moans. Sylvain wondered if she prayed to the goddess with that voice. If she knelt at the altar, his wife, and sang her hymns like this. 

His wife? Why did those thoughts come to his mind?

Whatever, he couldn't dwell on them when her breasts were heaving against his chest with each labored breath she took. Or especially when she would pull her pretty hands from his shoulders to cup his face and give him kisses all over his lips and cheeks. 

Sylvain was right in his assessment earlier: this wasn't like with any of the other girls. This was a union of souls, though he said such things were horse shit in the past. This wasn't sex, this was lovemaking. And the thought that he loved Mercedes like this, and she him, it brought tears to his eyes.

"Oh…Sylvain...you're…"

"I love you Mercie…"

"I...I love you too…" 

Shit, she was crying too, but her gentle smile had grown to pure joy. They kissed again, sweeter and more passionate than ever before. Be continued bringing her down on him, rocking her against him so he could hit that sweet spot for her. Sylvain wanted her to feel good, and he wanted to be the one to do that for her.

"Syl...I…"

"It's okay Baby. Go ahead…"

"Syl...Sylvain…!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who sent kind words to me regarding my healing. I'm doing much better now and am able to uphold my writing schedule again.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include some violent talk and sexual content in the section labeled Dimitri.

**Dimitri**

The whole way back to his apartment and later to Byleth's place, Dimitri's mind was abuzz. He knew everything now, knew why he needed the castle as he did, was drawn to Byleth like he was. Even when he was white-knuckling the steering wheel, he could feel Blaiddyd synchronizing with him, showing him flashes of that life from so long ago that only served to bring the blackouts to light. Blaiddyd wanted him to understand that he hadn't been broken this entire time, that the blackouts weren't a product of his psychosis or another underlying condition he had yet to be diagnosed with.

It had been Blaiddyd all along, he knew. Blaiddyd was pulling him to his former home and to his wife. And Dimitri knew that he would get the last lingering answers to the question that was on his lips for his entire life  _ from _ her. He had texted her back at the apartment to ask if he could come over after he had a quick shower to wash away the centuries of dust and dirt that had accumulated on his person. Something about showing up dirty felt wrong. While he was putting on fresh clothes, she responded that he could, which caused his heart to leap into his throat.

So, he sped over there, despite his better judgment and cautious driving practices. Because he needed to see her. He  _ and _ Blaiddyd needed to see her.

* * *

Byleth had buzzed him into her apartment, and on the way up, he rehearsed what he had wanted to say to her, how he was going to ask the questions. Dimitri was so sure of himself then, but when she unlocked the door and he met her perfect green eyes, all words were lost on him. Byleth disarmed him. Always had. And he wagered that she always would.

"Come in." She said, side-stepping behind the door to allow him in. 

He listened. 

Byleth shut the door and turned to him. Her expression was blank, but he had an idea of what she was thinking. There were little things he noticed now that he hadn't in the past, and it made it easier to read her.

"I opened Lady Byleth's sarcophagus." He said dryly after finding his words. 

"I figured you might. You needed to see it." She spoke as if she knew that as a fact, not like she was inquiring.

"It was empty. She...you...weren't inside. You're...you're not...uh...awakened like me." Dimitri didn't know if that was the right word for what he felt, but he wasn't about to hang himself up on those details.

"No. I'm not."

"Then who are you? What are you? How are you standing here?"

"I think we should sit down while I explain this."

Byleth led him to her living room, where they both took a seat on her couch. He looked around while she made herself comfortable, taking in the simple decorations and heavy curtains lining every window. He got the impression that she probably moved a lot, given the quality of her possessions and also the lack of personal touches besides a few things strewn about that were probably more sentimental than anything.

"Do you remember the night you died as Blaiddyd?"

"Yeah. Yes. We died together."

Byleth shook her head. "You died.  _ I  _ was turned into something else."

She launched into a story about the man with the fangs who murdered him and changed her while they slept, about waking up in her sarcophagus several days later, screaming and hungry. About how she was left down there for goddess knew how long until Seteth, Rhea, and Flayn found her. How they lived together, taught her how to exist in this new way, and made plans for the castle. How, up until recently, the castle was to remain empty and in Rhea's possession. How confused and scared she had been when she first saw him. 

Dimitri tried to make sense of what she was saying. He knew, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have believed her tale. If he didn't have  _ Blaiddyd  _ in his head reminding him of the pearly white fangs in the assailant's mouth while he tore out his throat, he would have called her a liar. Those same pearly white fangs that he turned on Byleth while she screamed for the guards and fumbled around for a weapon to defend herself with haunted his memory.

Similar fangs to the perfect ones he caught a glimpse of in her mouth while she spoke.

"So, you're saying you're a…"

"...Yes. It's...it's different than what you see on TV, though."

"You eat fish and vegetables, for a start." He said with a humored snort.

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's more like an iron deficiency. If we eat a high iron diet and take supplements, we don't need to drink blood."

Dimitri folded his hands between his knees. His mouth was dry, palms sweaty. Despite all that, every fiber of his being yearned to touch her. To kiss her. To hold her in his arms like Blaiddyd had centuries before. That feeling was enough to chase away whatever apprehensions he had regarding what she had said. 

"Do you...are you only interested in me because of Blaiddyd?" 

Byleth shook her head. "I was curious at first because you look so much like him, but I...I know part of me wants you because of him. But there's part of me who is...I like who you are outside of him as well."

"I like who you are outside of his pull on me as well."

Byleth slid across the couch towards him. Within seconds, her hand was on his thigh and she was leaning up to seal his lips with hers. He could already feel the electricity between them, the pull was so powerful that he couldn't turn away even if he wanted to.

She was chill to the touch, but he craved her more than anything. Dimitri cupped the back of her head while the kiss deepened. Their bodies molded into each other, like the pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together after all this time of being lost. She was his end and beginning, the answer to his every question.

And he  _ needed _ her.

They separated, and all Dimitri could do was stare into her eyes. Her perfect green eyes. She reached up and cupped his face in both her hands. "Do you want to go to bed with me?"

"I...yeah. Yes. But...uh...can you…? Is that something you can do?" He still didn't know everything about her, about her new life since she turned. Dimitri also didn't much care for vampire stories, so he didn't know what was considered common for them. Still, he wanted to. He craved her so potently, so strongly. 

"If you're asking if it's possible for me to have sex, the answer is yes."

She kissed him again.

* * *

Getting to Byleth's bed was a haze of kisses, removing clothes, and more kisses. Despite knowing what her body looked like under her clothes, she was still a sight to behold while naked. He trailed kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, truly savoring her for what she was and showing her how much he needed her. Dimitri couldn't help but kiss and suck on her breasts while she straddled him and his kisses led him there. He was already so hard and could feel her slickness on him while she gyrated her hips against him. 

"Ah...Dimitri…"

He looked up at her, into her slightly parted lips and could see those fangs again. Logically, he knew he should have a fear response from them. Yet, this was Byleth,  _ his _ Byleth; he knew she would never do anything to hurt him. 

As much as he wanted her, he wanted her to take from him everything she wanted. He waited a lifetime for her, so a few more minutes was nothing to him.

But she was growing impatient. Byleth rolled her hips against him, causing his breath to get trapped in his throat when she did so. It was her way of telling him that she didn't want to wait much more. And he would do anything to make her happy.

Giving in to her, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back. His hair fell into his face, making her hard to see. This seemed to irritate her as well as she pushed his hair along the crown of his scalp while wrapping her legs around him.

Dimitri went in easily. She was so wet that there was hardly any resistance. Still, she was cooler than he knew from past partners, cooler than even Blaiddyd recalled. He jerked away slightly at the sensation.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Cold."

"Oh...Fuck. Do you want to stop so I can warm up a bit for you?"

The thought crossed his mind briefly. Byleth in the bath, as tempting as the that was, would not satisfy the need he currently had building in his whole being. He needed her then, immediately. And besides, she wasn't so terribly cold that he wasn't already growing used to her.

Dimitri shook his head. "No, I want to keep going."

He pressed into her a second time, this time cinching his hand under the crook of her knee so he could hitch her leg higher. This time, he moaned audibly, only to be silenced by her needy lips pressing into his.

Dimitri rose to his knees, which allowed himself to put more power into his thrusts. He propped himself up with his free hand and began rocking against her. The memories of his past life as Blaiddyd came to the forefront, memories of how he would make love with her. They served as something of a guide, showing him how best to please her. 

Byleth's arms wrapped around his neck in response.

"Ah...ah...Dima…"

Her moans inspired a harder, more rapid thrust from him, almost involuntarily. They kissed again. Memories of their wedding night came flickering to the forefront. Memories of her in her beautiful gown, of the servants helping to undress her for his bed, only to be shooed away by her because she wanted him to do it. He had ruined her wedding dress that night by accident.

"Please...please don't stop."

Dimitri pressed his forehead to hers, which made it easier to steal kisses with each push. She was crying. But, so was he. He was so overcome with love at that moment that all he could do was weep when they were finally reunited. Because while he could have gone his whole life without her, he also knew deep down that the space she filled in his soul would forever remain empty without her.

"I...I love you Byleth."

"Me too…"

Byleth came with a rapturous cry of his name and her fingernails digging into the skin of his neck and back. Saliva glinted off her fangs, which were perfectly white and illuminated in the moonlight streaming through the window. The sight alone was enough to send him over the edge as well.

"B...Byleth…"

* * *

**Mercedes**

She had spent the night with Sylvain.

Mercedes had made sure to stop by the cottage and pick up her toothbrush and a change of clothes after they had cleaned up in her medical trailer. She had also remembered to pack a few condoms in her overnight bag, just to be sure. Sylvain was probably the sort who kept a box under his sink with his spare deodorant stick and bathroom cleaning supplies, but she wanted to be extra certain. As much as she liked him, loved him, even, she didn't think she was ready to bring children into the mix just yet.

Nothing happened at his house, in any case. Nothing outside of cuddling on the couch while watching her recent horror movie obsession (which Hubert had recommended), and then pillow talk once they were both tired. In a way, Mercedes was both surprised and grateful.

Sylvain really was something special, something she didn't think he even saw in himself. And getting to talk to him for hours about everything and nothing was a welcome change to the masks he wore.

In the morning, while Sylvain showered and shaved, Mercedes raided his kitchen for anything to make a nice breakfast for the two of them with. His kitchen was a bit barren, mostly a lot of staples: bread, milk, cheese, eggs, deli meats, some frozen foods, and an array of spices she was shocked and delighted to find. So, she settled on French toast with a blueberry reduction using the frozen blueberries she found in the freezer. 

She had just finished laying out the meal when Sylvain came out from the bathroom, still clutching the washcloth he used to wipe the shaving cream remains from his face. He hadn't noticed her, not initially because he was on a course to his bedroom to drop the hand towel in the hamper. Still, within moments, he was practically following his nose, guided to the small eat-in kitchen that seemed scarcely used.

"Something smells great." He said, rounding her with a kiss to the top of her head.

"French toast." She replied, beaming. 

"Well, it looks amazing."

While they ate, Sylvain raved about her cooking after every bite. He seemingly forgot his manners occasionally, having chosen to talk with a mouth stuffed with food. Mercedes supposed it was a compliment in a way; her food was good enough for him to revert into a more barbaric state.

"That was delicious," Sylvain wiped lingering bits of blueberry compote off his mouth with a napkin, "you're gonna fatten me up, Baby."

Heat rose to Mercedes' face as she looked down at her plate, "I got some tips from Ashe about making the French toast, but it's really much better with a homemade brioche."

"You'll have to make that for me sometime," he checked his phone, "hey, I have to drop Dimitri's luggage off at his apartment this morning. Would you rather me drop you off first, or--"

"--I don't mind going with. Besides, I would like to see how he's feeling after yesterday."

"Okay, let me brush my teeth and we can get going."

* * *

"Fuck, where is he?" Sylvain was checking his phone. They had been parked for several minutes, and she was not sure why they were still in the car or what the issue was. Mercedes looked around the street, confused.

"Is Dimitri not home?"

"No. His sedan isn't here and he isn't responding to my texts."

"Do you think he's okay?"

Sylvain pursed his lips. "I...I don't know."

Mercedes laced her fingers together and thought for a moment about the circumstances. She didn't know Dimitri as well as Sylvain, but he never seemed like the sort to run away from his problems; maybe attempt to shoulder them all on his own, but not run.

"Why don't we wait for another ten minutes, and if he doesn't show up or respond, we'll try calling his family? He might have just went out for breakfast or something."

"Dimitri drinks reheated coffee and survived most of university on bulk-sized bags of dinosaur chicken nuggets and microwave mac and cheese, but you're right. We'll wait a few minutes before assuming the worst."

They sat silent for about four minutes, with Sylvain playing an intense game of radio hockey before turning it off entirely. By the fifth minute, she saw a familiar-looking black car pull up into a spot just beyond theirs.

Sylvain rested his head against the headrest and sighed heavily. "Thank the fucking goddess. He's here."

They both got out of the car and Sylvain went to grab the bag from the backseat. Mercedes waved and smiled at Dimitri, which resulted in him waving weakly in response and heading over. He looked as though he hadn't slept; his hair was a bit bedraggled. The shirt he was wearing was wrinkled in places as well, which seemed so unlike the Dimitri she knew who always had a very clean appearance. Yet, at the same time, he looked happy. Overjoyed, in fact. 

"Good morning, Dimitri."

"Morning, Mercedes, Sylvain."

Sylvain pulled the luggage out of the back with a groan and started wheeling it toward Dimitri. "Where were you? You had us both worried sick when you weren't home and you weren't answering."

"I...ah...I spent the night elsewhere last night."

Mercedes saw a switch in Sylvain. Before, he was concerned and a little frustrated. But at that moment, he was wearing a sly little smirk as he clapped a hand to Dimitri's back.

"You old dog, you got laid last night! Was it Byleth? It was probably Byleth."

Dimitri looked elsewhere, leading Mercedes to believe that he was uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

"I think that's probably enough now, Sylvain."

Dimitri took his suitcase, but Mercedes could tell he was hesitating with walking away. He looked down at his feet, and then returned to them.

"If you both aren't in a hurry, could you come in for a moment? I need to talk with you about something."

Sylvain cast Mercedes a look and a shrug, leaving it to her to decide from there. She smoothed out the length of her skirt while she thought it through. 

"Of course, Dimitri. We're here for you."

* * *

"Would either of you like coffee? I think I have some milk too. Or water. I have water."

Dimitri was wringing his hands in the entryway, glancing occasionally over at the kitchen when he thought they wouldn't notice. Something was troubling him.

"Quit stalling. What do you want?" Sylvain had made himself at home on the couch. 

Mercedes joined him on the couch as well, while Dimitri stepped into the living area, but remained standing. He was wringing his hands together, though he did not speak.

"What? Did you finally bang Byleth and you told her you loved her, but she told you she was only looking for fun?"

Dimitri shook his head. "No. She was wonderful. I...I have either of you experienced anything like flashbacks? But not like your past experiences, but like someone else's life?"

She looked to Sylvain, who had gone pale. He was flexing his fingers on his thighs, with the occasional tongue swipe along his lips while he found his words. Mercedes understood this anxiousness to speak as well because, while she would have thought something along those lines would be outlandish several months ago, she couldn't deny then that she had felt something close to what Dimitri was describing.

"I think I know what you mean," she said, putting a hand to Sylvain's thigh to bring him comfort, "you mean the blackouts we've all been having and the surge of emotions running through all of us."

Dimitri nodded once. "Yes. That. I suppose I thought I was the only one, but if you're having them too…" he trailed off.

"Okay, so we're having these blackouts. What now? Why are we having them?" Sylvain was finally engaging in the conversation. His posture had changed to being slightly hunched over, fingers steepled in front of his mouth while he considered more words.

"I'm Blaiddyd. Or, I was. And you were all members of Blaiddyd's inner circle. Byleth and I talked about it early this morning and she thinks it has to do with the castle being a familiar place for the people we were in a past life and being there for the restoration acted like a trigger."

"And Byleth is Lady Byleth, then? That's romantic, that you stumbled on each other as you did." She clasped her hands together.

Dimitri's eye shifted elsewhere. "I think it's best if you hear her story from her when she's ready to tell it."

Sylvain placed his hand over Mercedes'. It was warm and inviting, despite the fact that she didn't feel as though she really needed comfort at the moment. Perhaps he was the one who needed reassurance, she told herself. He was still rather pale, and he had been mostly quiet the whole conversation. 

She placed her other hand atop his. Almost immediately, Sylvain's posture eased.

"When were you planning on telling everyone this?" Sylvain asked.

"Byleth and I are still trying to figure out when would be best. But soon, probably."

Mercedes nodded. "Is there anything you need us to do to help this along?"

"No. She needs time to figure out how she wants to explain everything. But thank you."

"Well, that was a lot for you to learn after your booty call last night." 

"It wasn't a--"

"--Chill. I'm joking. I get that she gives you butterflies in the belly and she's your dream girl and shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	12. Chapter 12

**Ingrid**

"I'm going to kick his ass when he gets here." Ingrid grumbled to herself while she inspected the pair of sarcophagi. Glenn was on the far side of the chamber, wheeling in some construction lights to better illuminate the space. What sparing few that had been brought in the previous few days were doing very little, and she was now in the portion of the excavation where she needed extreme care, so lighting was of utmost importance. She switched on her helmet light to compensate while Glenn worked with the lamps.

"Who? Sylvain? Or Dimitri?"

Both she and Glenn had received a detailed account from Felix about how the pair had opened Lady Byleth's sarcophagus without her. She was understandably upset about that, given her and Glenn were the only two certified to do such things and neither were consulted before they did so. Luckily, from what she managed to glean from her preliminary findings, they did no damage to the sarcophagus or lid, but she was still upset that no one had the forethought to call her before doing so. They could have broken something, exposed her remains to light that was way too harsh for her sensitive bones.  _ Something  _ that would have made their findings null and void.

"Both? Dimitri especially because he knows the procedures on excavation sites and convinced Sylvain to help according to Felix." She shrugged and crouched down next to Lady Byleth's sarcophagus. It was unlike Dimitri to act so rashly, yet she knew he hadn't been much of himself as of recent and had been acting out of turn. She mentally chastised herself for not taking more precautions to prevent him from acting as he had.

Everything about it was pretty standard for the time, but she couldn't escape the all-encompassing itch that took her when she realized it had been empty. At first, she thought perhaps graverobbers, but she had taken a peek into Blaiddyd's and found him fully intact and in all his finery, with only his wedding band missing. She figured he had been buried with it given his stone likeness had it, but when she managed a glance at his remains, it was missing despite the presence of other jewels and possessions.

Despite his sarcophagus being the one with things to inspect within it, Ingrid found herself far more interested in the empty one. There were some rust-colored streaks lining the sides as well as the underside of the lid as she could see. She held her hand to one and, to her horror found it to be finger-shaped. Like the person inside had tried to claw her way out. 

"Glenn, when you're done, could you come here? I want to show you something and get your opinion on it."

"Yeah, give me a moment."

The lights flickered on, giving the space a far less ominous quality which each one he set up. Ingrid took the time while he did so to take a few pictures to send to her boss to hopefully get an opinion. She had some theories, but she didn't like the place her mind was going and wanted a second opinion. 

"What do you think of this?" She gestured vaguely at the sarcophagus while Glenn stepped over to take a better look.

He placed a hand to his chin and circled the pair of sarcophagi while he thought about what she had asked. Glenn took time to touch the both, inspect them closer, peer into the empty one. His face was impossible to read while he did so; she learned young that the knit brows were just a permanent Fraldarius trait. When he was ready to speak, he stood up straight and wiped his hands on his thighs.

"From a glance, the pair seemed to have been made of the same stone and have similar weathering patterns, so I would say they were probably made about the same time, but without carbon dating, that's just a hunch. I don't think Lady Byleth's was constructed just to lend weight to her legends; it seems odd to me to do so. And then there's these markings on the inside," he gestured at them, "without running tests, I can't tell for certain, but I think it may be blood.  _ Someone  _ was buried here."

"Lady Byleth," she asked, "and if so, why is there blood? And where is her body?"

Glenn shook his head. "I don't know where she went, but if I had to guess, she could have been buried alive. Faerghus never practiced burying living loved ones with their dead, so I'm inclined to believe she was thought to be dead at the time of her burial and made a recovery after."

"That doesn't answer the question about where she went." Ingrid stood as well. Her calves were starting to burn and she needed a rest. 

"I...fuck, I have no idea where she went. Maybe they moved her body after they realized they buried her alive to hide their shame? Maybe graverobbers took her?"

"Then why didn't they take Blaiddyd? The only thing that's missing on him is his wedding band."

Glenn pinched the bridge of his nose and walked away several feet. She could tell that the situation frustrated him and felt instantly guilty for pressing him for more answers than he had to give. 

"I...I don't know. I thought everything would be cleared up when we found her."

"But we haven't found her and we're only left with more questions."

Glenn nodded.

Ingrid couldn't say it, not to Glenn at least, but she had a gut feeling she knew where Lady Byleth had gone. She had a suspicion about what happened to her. But saying it aloud, it was odd. Too bizarre to be real. Still, there was a voice in her head telling her that she knew what happened. That she had seen the body laid to rest and heard the wails from within when she had come to lay flowers out for them. 

That the wails stooped when those green-haired strangers claiming to be Lady Byleth's kin showed up. 

She had a suspicion of who they needed to speak to in order to get to the bottom of things.

* * *

**Annette**

"You finished all the projects you had for the Blaiddyd castle?" 

Her boss, a middle-aged man with a tuft of hair that was always unkemptly asked. He was clutching a mug of black coffee tightly in one hand, which reminded her of Felix for some reason. Later, she would text him and ask if he wanted to pick up lunch together. For now, she needed to pay attention to the conversation.

"Sure did! The castle isn't ready for them, but they're all done and kept in a storage shed on the premises that I checked myself to make sure it would be adequate for the paintings."

Her boss nodded. "Great work, Dominic. They're bringing some Adrestian paintings in this afternoon that I might assign to you since you don't have any projects at the moment, but I doubt if you'll be able to start until at least tomorrow."

"So does that mean I can go on lunch early?" She asked sweetly.

"Tidy your station first, but yes. You can go on lunch as soon as you're done with that."

"Alright! Thanks!"

Her boss headed back to his office, so Annette shot Felix a quick text to ask him where he wanted to go for lunch and got to work tidying the lab. As odd as her coworkers found it, she actually liked cleaning up the solvents and organizing them. Mercedes had shown her some cute organization hacks that they inevitably used in their house, and she started applying them to her work station and cabinet when she had the time to do so. 

Not that her work station was particularly clean  _ while  _ she was working. But a clean work station before the next project came in was always nice. 

She finished organizing the cabinet of tools when her phone gave a buzz. Her music cut out, making her sigh in an exaggerated fashion that would have suggested an audience. She didn't have one, of course, but she still rolled her eyes in a humorous fashion just for her own entertainment. 

"So, we're going to lunch?" Felix was straight to the point.

"No  _ hello, Annette, how was your day _ ?" She wasn't really mad, but still, she wanted to tease him a little about his lack of greeting.

Felix sighed and came back with "Hello, Annette, how was your day?"

She smiled to herself. "Great! Boss is basically giving me the morning off because I won't have any projects to work on. How are you?"

"I'm at the university right now. I...shit, after how Dimitri was acting the other day, I asked Ingrid and Edelgard to write me up a report to turn in to Seteth since that time is coming up," he paused, "so, lunch?"

"Yeah! I'm  _ starving.  _ There's this little cafe on campus that does really good wraps and sandwiches, and they have yummy lattes and cupcakes. Wanna go?"

"I guess I could go for a wrap. I have my meeting with Seteth in a few minutes, but I'll meet you there after, just text me the address."

"Nah. I'm just about done here. I'll tell my boss I'm going on lunch and just head down to the history department to wait for you."

* * *

Felix had been done eating a while ago, which made Annette feel self-conscious because she still had half her churro latte and double chocolate cupcake left to finish. If he minded, Felix wasn't showing it, however. She was starting to understand him better, to see how he was listening, even when he was trying to play it cool and act like he was disinterested.

Annette was finishing off the last bite of her cupcake when Felix shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. "Dimitri has something he wants to tell everyone. Wants us all to meet up in about a week at the castle."

She picked at the last lingering bits of cupcake clinging to the paper. "Is this good or bad?"

Felix shrugged. "Don't know. He was acting like an animal that night in the catacombs, but Sylvain said he's acting more like himself."

"Sylvain saw him? How is he feeling?" Mercedes had mentioned seeing Dimitri as well, but she was far in the way of descriptive when Annette tried to needle her for information. She wasn't trying to gossip, exactly, yet she supposed it came across that way at times. In reality, she was just as worried as the others, but she feared he wouldn't respond if she made an effort to reach out to him.

Felix's brows knit together at the question. "I don't trust anything Sylvain said on the matter because he put most of the emphasis on the fact that he was pretty sure Dimitri got laid."

She couldn't help the giggle that came out. In an attempt to conceal it, Annette covered her mouth with her hand. "Leave it to Sylvain to care more about his friend's sex life than whether he's feeling better."

"Yeah."

"So, are we going to meet Dimitri, or…"

Felix glanced at his phone. "I really don't see a way out of this. Maybe he's going to tell us he's done chasing ghosts and we can all give up on this project."

"You know you would be a little upset if that happened. I see how excited you get when we learn something new about the site." She slid the toe of her shoe against his ankle to drive the point home. 

Felix's face colored red and he looked elsewhere until it faded. 

"I know I don't know the whole history behind the connection you four have to the castle and deep down, you worry that this is unhealthy for Dimitri," she started after a sip of her latte, "but I get the feeling that everything is going to be okay. We discovered that Lady Byleth probably existed, even if her body is missing, and everyone is finding happiness with each other. It's like the castle is bringing us together."

"I suppose we would have never had an excuse to get to know each other better if we weren't working on this project together." said Felix with a flicker of a smile.

Annette smiled back. As much as Felix liked to play aloof and distant, his smile had an infectious sort of quality that made her want to smile as well. "So it's decided, we'll hear him out. Together."

* * *

**Hubert**

"I'm going to tell you, Hubert, I was a little skeptical when you said you were shifting the book from being a horror story to a love story, but I couldn't put your last draft down."

His editor's voice came through in a tinny quality over the phone, making Hubert cringe over certain words. It wasn't so bad that he couldn't mostly ignore it, however. Instead of commenting, he would sip his steadily cooling cup of black coffee that he had sitting in front of him at his desk.

It had been his third cup just that morning, which followed after the several pots he had consumed over the past week while he worked tirelessly at the rewrites to make the change into a love story seamless. Hubert had asked Edelgard to read it before he emailed it to his editor; after not conferring with her about the change in story, he made sure to include her this time. Edelgard was never much for romance novels, she much preferred true crime nonfiction above all else. Still, she said it was an enjoyable story, even if it was a departure from his usual body of work.

"So, it's good, then?" he asked, not that he needed an answer.

"Good? Fuck, Hubert, I read it with my wife and we were both in tears! That scene where Damion confronts Lady Byleth about his past life with her and they embrace? I was bawling. But, I have to ask you: how does it end? Is Damion going to go back to his regular life and try to forget she exists, or is he going to join her in the eternal night?"

The ending hadn't come to Hubert yet. He had never written a romance. Never read many, either. At least, not until he felt in his core that his book needed to be a romance and he needed to do some research. Part of him wanted to keep it tragic, to have the hero forsake his love because her life was too far removed from everything he ever knew. But, there was a part of him that saw the appeal in him giving everything for love. He certainly would have given everything he had to give for Edelgard, so it didn't seem much of a stretch of the imagination to have his protagonist do so. 

"I'm still ironing out the details on the ending. Can I email you the last few chapters once I get it right?"

"Yeah, of course. But try to hurry; my wife is desperate to know if Damion and Lady Byleth wind up together in the end and how they're going to make it work."

The call ended and Hubert took a moment to decompress before leaving his office. It went well, he reminded himself, looking into the blackness of his coffee. It went really well. The publisher was already talking about forwarding advanced copies to book review publications to get blurbs to put on the back. There was also talk of it potentially being on the bestseller list for the year if it sold nearly as well as they were thinking. 

He certainly hoped so, though the thought of any degree of fame was dizzying to him. But, fame meant that he could provide for Edelgard the way he wanted to, and that was always a plus.

Hubert finished off his coffee, then grabbed the cup and headed into the living room where Edelgard was waiting.

"How did it go?" she asked, looking up from her spread of wedding invitations that she had lain across their coffee table. 

"The editor loved it. Publisher's already talking bestseller list contender."

"That's fantastic," Edelgard shuffled some of the invitations about, "but you don't sound so enthusiastic."

"I don't know how the book ends," he sat beside her on the couch, balancing the empty cup on his knee, "I'm not sure if Damion should leave Byleth, or if she should turn him."

Edelgard didn't respond right away. She continued slipping invitations into envelopes that she had filled out earlier. He could tell, however, that she was thinking of what to say.

"I could call Dorothea if you want. She's done a few romance movies and might be able to give some insight on what she feels the best ending is."

Hubert gave a singular nod.

* * *

Half an hour passed of Hubert being on the phone with Dorothea. Edelgard had switched it to speaker so that all three could participate, but it was mostly him doing the talking. The entire time, he was trying to give her the most comprehensive outline of the plot of the book he could muster, with the occasional interjection from Edelgard when he forgot a detail here or there. Dorothea was silent the entire time, merely listening as he explained everything.

When he reached the last of the book he had written, he took a much-needed breath to cleanse his palette and said, "This is the part where I get stuck. I don't know if Damion should remain human and live his life without Byleth, or if she should turn him and they live in the night together."

"Turn him. Absolutely turn him," Dorothea had no hesitation in her voice, "it's a  _ romance _ novel. There's nothing romantic about your protagonist going back to his boring life when he has the love of a millennium right at his fingertips. You could have him waffle around a bit maybe like he isn't sure if he could live her lifestyle, but in the end, he should go to her and want to be turned. Love conquers all and all that."

"You're certain this is the best course for the book." It wasn't a question, but he figured she would answer it anyway.

"Yes! She's the love he's been searching for across lifetimes. Besides, vampire stories where the vampire doesn't get their happily ever after is so ten years ago."

"Then it's decided."

"I'm glad I could help," said Dorothea, "and if this ends up getting a movie deal, tell the casting directors that I'm your first choice for Lady Byleth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, [You can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this chapter gets dark in both sections, so please read at your own discretion (I promise this has a happy ending, you'll just have to trust me).

**Dedue**

Dirt piled up under his fingernails as he worked at harvesting the last of the fall vegetables in the garden. News reports suggested a frost overnight, and a frost would ruin the whole crop. So, despite having work to do at both the castle and his  _ actual _ job, Dedue managed to make time for the community garden. After all, it would be a shame to lose the whole harvest and have nothing to speak of his labors throughout the spring and summer.

It seemed that most of the other volunteers had already picked most of the crop and started making away for what little could survive in the winter, but they left enough for Dedue to harvest himself. He appreciated that; after having promised Ashe that he would treat him to a meal he made with the vegetables he grew, he would have been disappointed if he didn't get to uphold that promise. 

The classical music continued to play while he dug up the last of the carrots and put them neatly into his basket. Dedue made a mental note of their vibrant color and the type of plant feed he used this season. Perhaps suggesting it to the whole garden was in order. 

He looked over the rest of the garden and saw the barren plots that were left. With a satisfied nod, he softly piled the dirt back into place and packed up his tools. Dedue wasn't too familiar with native plants to Faerghus that preferred the winter months, so he would need to do a bit of research before returning to the community garden to fill his plots. 

Dusting his hands off on his pants, Dedue stood and retrieved his things. He looked over the rest of the garden once more before leaving. There was another person present whom he only knew in passing, but he was never much for conversation so he elected to leave instead of attempting small talk. 

Dedue piled his things into his car and made his way into the driver's seat. He drove a used sedan, nothing flashy, but dependable and good on gas. Eventually, he hoped to switch to one of those electric cars, but for the time being, he found his current to be serving him just fine. After buckling himself in, Dedue checked his phone. One text from Ashe. 

_ Hey you on your way home yet??? Wanted to stop by _

Quickly, Dedue typed a response. 

_ On my way now. _

He waited a minute, suspecting Ashe would respond fairly quickly. Dedue was right, though unsurprised when another text came through mere seconds later.

_ Okay! I'll meet you there! _

* * *

Dedue had only enough time to wash himself up and start cleaning the vegetables by the time Ashe was walking into his apartment with a reusable shopping bag full of ingredients. He headed into the kitchen like he was on a track and placed his bag on the counter. Dedue didn't need to inspect the contents; he knew that, between both of them, they could whip up something delicious. 

On his way to grab the spare apron he started keeping in the apartment and the other set of knives and a cutting board, Ashe placed a gentle kiss to Dedue's cheek. He knew the gesture shouldn't have caused him to become flustered, but something about it was so sweet that he couldn't help anything but. 

"So, what are you thinking for dinner?" Ashe was rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to help with washing the vegetables. 

"We have a lot of hearty root vegetables, so maybe a stew or curry. Soup could be good as well, but we should par-cook some of the ingredients before assembling."

Ashe gave a simple nod and said, "I brought a dry red wine, some venison from that butcher I was telling you about, and some aromatics from the farmer's market. So a stew would probably work really well! Oh! And some of those sugar candies."

Dedue nodded and they got to work.

Ashe was working with the meat while Dedue was chopping some of the vegetables. It was simple work. Quiet work. But, Dedue didn't see the need to fill the silence. And likewise, he was certain Ashe understood him well enough to know how he was feeling. He liked the sensation, that they were so in sync at times that they didn't need to speak. 

That was broken when Ashe came forward with a nervous, "So, Dimitri has something big to tell us about the sarcophagi." Though he hadn't phrased it as such, the question in his tone was obvious.

"Yes. Something he feels is too important to say over the phone."

The sound of Ashe's knife slicing through the meat stopped. "Do you...do you think it has to do with Lady Byleth's remains?"

Dedue hummed and nodded. 

"And you saw the same thing that day in the burial chamber as me? The servants and everything?"

Another nod, though he wasn't certain where this line of questioning was going. 

"Did you...did you hear the wailing?  _ Her _ wailing?"

That gave Dedue cause to look over from his vegetables and at Ashe. He could see the fear, the anxiety about what he was saying. And he had no way of quelling it. Dedue  _ hadn't  _ heard the noises Ashe spoke of, though he was already pretty on edge about the entire situation despite his cool exterior. 

Still, his desire to comfort Ashe outweighed his own apprehensions. Dedue put the knife down and closed the gap between them with a hug. Ashe nestled against him, arms cinched around him in a deceptively strong vice grip. 

"They...we...we buried her alive," he said, voice muffled, "we buried her alive, but we thought it was just her ghost. We thought she was dead when she was put inside."

He couldn't find any words that made sense at that moment, so he tightened the grip he had on him.

"That's what the Ashen Demon was. It was her screaming to be let out of her sarcophagus, but everyone was too afraid to check on her."

Despite having no recollection of the wails, not from that night they went to inspect the sarcophagi, at least, Dedue felt in his core that this was the truth. He had a sort of lingering understanding about it, a shadow of a memory. He also remembered the wails abruptly stopping one day, though he couldn't figure why.

"I just wanted to talk about it with someone. We can go back to making dinner."

* * *

**Byleth**

It was sometime after 2 am and she was back in bed. Byleth had intended on getting some writing done; she needed to have her portions of the textbook done by month's end so that it could be run through the editors and be printed for schools next term. Yet, she was back in bed. And at Dimitri's behest. He had only been back to his own apartment a few times since that night, mainly to change or shower. Otherwise, when he wasn't working, he was at her place. Or, more specifically, in her arms. He couldn't get enough of her, it seemed. And she felt much the same way.

He was tracing patterns into her skin, chin rested on her sternum while he did so. His eye danced between both of hers, unable to choose which he found the most important to look into. Dimitri would stop at random intervals to kiss her anywhere he could reach. Their lovemaking had quickly become much like that in the short time since their reunion, not that she was complaining; she enjoyed the stillness after, the way they basked in each other after such passion shortly before. That calm was somehow more intimate than the act of sex to her. It was knowing what he was feeling without needing to ask because she could feel it just as potently. She could finally make sense of that draw she felt to him and knew it wasn't the hunger, though she imagined that a taste of his blood would have been euphoric. 

"Byleth," he said, breaking the silence, "what are we going to do?"

"I'm hoping you'll let me out of bed long enough to get a little work done." 

Dimitri shook his head. "No. I mean...you live forever. And I, well, I don't. Eventually, I'll die and you'll be alone again. We'll just end up doing this all over again when I come back."

"What are you trying to say?"

He went silent for a time. His hands on her body had even gone limp. "I don't want to do this again, this living a life feeling incomplete because part of me will always be yearning for you. I...I want this, what we have right now, to be forever."

Byleth thought she understood, but he was mincing his words, dancing around what he meant, and making her confused. She didn't want to assume and give either of them the wrong impression. Likewise, she wanted him to say what he meant instead of avoiding the topic. 

"Huh?"

"I want you to be with you forever. I want you to turn me." 

The words hit her like a brick wall. Byleth struggled to sit up, not from his weight on her, but the weight of what he asked from her. She couldn't meet his gaze, even though he was propped up on all fours, inches from her, and awaiting an answer. His pull on her was magnetic, so while she fought against looking at him, she could feel herself being drawn back in, to meet him the way he was meeting her at that moment. 

"Are you sure? What about your family and friends? Would you just throw them all away for me?"

"Do you know what it was like, living my whole life waiting for you, knowing you were someone important to me, but having no idea why? And how, when I finally found you, everything I had experienced made perfect sense and I knew where I needed to be? I...I can find a way to make the situation with my friends and family work. But I don't want to go back to feeling like a piece of me is missing because it will always be with you."

He rose to his knees, and just as fluid, took both her hands in his. "This is what I want. Here, with you. And if I don't pursue that, I know it will only lead me to heartache and disappointment."

Whatever fight was in Byleth to avoid his gaze had left her body. She could see the pain on his face, the resolve, the desire, it was all there, plain as day. He wanted this, and he had been thinking about this for as long as he knew what she really was. Yet, something about making him like her, making him live in her night felt wrong. 

As much as Byleth loved him, as much as she felt like this was where she belonged, she felt just as strongly that he was romanticizing what she was.

"Dimitri, can we talk about this later? It's not something I feel comfortable just  _ doing _ without making sure you understand the weight of it."

He rolled off her and settled in the bed beside her, but still maintained contact despite his evident upset. To comfort him, she brushed his hair aside in an attempt to give her a better view of his face. 

"I...I don't want to lose you, but I also don't want you to resent me because you end up resenting this life." She kissed his temple reassuringly. This was the best she could offer him at the present. Not a hard no, just a promise to revisit the conversation later.

"But this is my decision to make. It's my life." He wasn't aggressive, necessarily, but from his tone of voice, Byleth could tell that a chord had been struck. 

Byleth turned away again. "Please. Just take some time to think about it. I don't want you to make a decision in the afterglow of sex and then regret it later."

* * *

Her stomach was up in knots, watching Dimitri pace through the entrance hall of the castle while they waited for everyone else. He had been anxious the whole time, perhaps enough for them both. Not that she wasn't consumed with her own nervousness. In a few short minutes, he was going to expose who she really was to a group of people, and while she was pretty damn certain they all knew her as their past selves and would keep her secrets if she asked, she still couldn't help but feel a little sick when the moment came.

Yet, she managed to remain composed while Dimitri was positively overcome with nervousness. It had been his idea to tell them about her. He felt that revealing the truth was the best course of action. She suspected because he was still rather firm on her turning him and felt it would ease the shock a little when he finally went through with it. 

"They're running late." He said, stopping his steps to turn to her.

"You told them around 9 PM. We left early because it was already dark."

"Right." Still, he checked the time on his phone again. 

Another ten minutes passed of Dimitri pacing and wringing his hands until everyone else began to file into the castle. They were all dressed adequately for the cold, which made Byleth wonder if she should have dressed more appropriately to keep up the facade for a little while longer. But, she figured that in the long run, it really didn't matter.

"What do you want with us?" Asked Felix, arms folded across his chest. Annette was by his side, which did not surprise Byleth in the slightest.

Dimitri cleared his throat. "As we all know by now, Lady Byleth's sarcophagus is empty."

There was a murmur of agreement among them as he finished. 

"I...well, I have an answer to why, but I need to ask you all to keep an open mind about it. What I'm going to say will sound completely farfetched, but I know it to be true." He climbed a few steps up the grand staircase. Some small pebbles cascaded down from under his feet. Byleth couldn't take her eyes at the way the stone seemed to crumble under his weight.

"It's because Lady Byleth was helped out of the tomb." Ingrid said. She spoke to Dimitri, but her eyes were trained on Byleth. 

"Yes. She and this is where it gets bizarre, she survived where Blaiddyd did not, but she was believed to be dead."

"I don't understand. Did she go into a coma and they buried her alive? And how do you know this?" It was Edelgard who spoke this time. She looked positively angered, but there was a hesitance there that kept her from growing any more persistent. 

"It would be best if she told you," and he gestured toward Byleth. 

Being her turn to speak, Byleth's stomach tensed up even more. She tried to swallow the nerves in an attempt to calm herself. Goddess, she saw centuries come and go, but the idea of talking to a room of people sent her into a panic. 

"She...I...Well, I guess I should start by saying that I know you all have been having flashes of memories of past lives. Clearing that will make it easier to explain the next part. She…well,  _ I _ technically died a human death that night beside Blaiddyd. They didn't know I was alive because I wasn't in the sense that they understood. I...I became something different that night."

"Bullshit. You're trying to tell me that you're the original Lady Byleth? The one that's in all the paintings?" Felix spoke again, unconvinced. 

Byleth spun her wedding ring around on her finger and looked to Dimitri, who presented her with a reassuring nod. 

"I don't expect you to believe it, but it's what I know to be true. You won't find Lady Byleth's remains because there are no remains; she's standing here in front of you."

The room erupted in a cacophonous chorus from everyone. She couldn't make out exactly what each individual was saying because everyone was speaking at the same time. Some were shouting at each other. Others at her. Others still were probably just raising their voices to be heard. 

Dimitri braved a few more steps up, toward a huge gap in the staircase. Her eyes flickered over to the weakening stairs. 

"QUIET."

His voice bellowed. 

The force of his words caused him to stumble forward. A large chunk of stair gave out under the sudden shift of weight, crumbling away and causing him to fall. Byleth only caught a glimpse, but she heard the awful  _ snap _ and instantly knew what had happened before she could see it properly.

She rushed over to the base of the stairs, which had become stained red with Dimitri's blood. Tears stained her eyes while she rose his fragile head into her lap. The blood wouldn't stop; it just kept flowing from the wound in his head. Her hands were already covered in it, but all she could see was how he helplessly gasped.

All around her, the others had ceased. Mercedes had come over and knelt beside her. She was barking orders to the others, but Byleth could hardly register them.

"Help him!" she howled, "oh goddess, help him! I can't lose him again!"

Dimitri's eye was quickly losing its luster. He was still trained on her but was fading rapidly. He tried to grab onto her like he was refusing to leave, but his grip was limp. The pain in her heart was immeasurable, only matched by the pain she felt when she watched that man prey on her husband. 

Mercedes placed a reassuring hand to Byleth's forearm and said something, but the words didn't click.

The tears were at the point where she was completely blinded to everything around her. She could feel him waning. Feel the pain. Feel the cold creeping over him. She didn't know what to do. She was going to lose him. Lose him again after having just found him. 

Someone was wailing. 

By the pain in her throat, she knew it to be her. 

Then, the briefest moment of clarity took her, and she knew in her heart what needed to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


	14. Chapter 14

**Edelgard**

The funeral went smoothly, thanks to the help she received from Byleth. It was still a struggle to process what she saw that night at the castle, his sudden death coupled with that  _ thing  _ Byleth had done only moments later. She had assured them,  _ all _ of them, that he would recover eventually, but he couldn't survive in the way they were accustomed to any longer. That he would need to be buried to keep up the illusion of his death, but later retrieved. She knew people who could do such things, wave their hands at the proper embalming procedures and who would give them enough privacy post-funeral to retrieve him. Despite knowing the truth of it all, she still cried when the casket lined with white lilies was lowered into the ground. Cried when all of their former classmates and instructors came to her at the post-funeral reception to offer their condolences. Cried even in private when she and Hubert were alone. It was a difficult thing to process, difficult more because her instincts told her to grieve the brother she should have been gentler to in life. 

In hindsight, the hardest part was keeping this all from their parents. Mother was distraught, and father was withdrawn. They went to his apartment several times throughout the week to go through his things, but Mother always ended up breaking down in tears while clutching something of his. A dirty shirt he forgot to throw in the hamper, his coffee mug with the broken handle, a group picture from his university graduation. Edelgard had promised to go through it later if it suited them, knowing that Byleth would likely bring him around once he was feeling better to pack up the things he wanted to bring to her place. 

She had promised that Edelgard could tell their parents he was alive once the transformation was complete. She could even bring them around to see him, but for the week after the funeral, he needed his rest and those like him to guide him through the changes. He needed to be undisturbed. 

Strange as it was, that week offered Hubert a moment of clarity in his book. He finished the ending over the course of a night and had it sent to his editor the next morning. Edelgard had never seen him so passionate in their years together, but she supposed the accident was the inspiration he had been lacking. 

His editor asked if they could meet in person to discuss the book, and Hubert explained the situation regarding Dimitri and that he couldn't travel at the moment because they were still grieving. So, the editor agreed to come to them instead.

They were all sipping coffee in the living room, though Edelgard was unsure as to why she was present for the meeting. Still, while he hid it expertly, Hubert was nervous and she figured she could be there for emotional support, despite him not asking for it. 

"I'm...ah...I'm sorry to hear about your brother in law," Hubert's editor said uncomfortably as he switched which knee he had his coffee cup balanced on, "when you called and said there was a death in your family, I didn't expect to hear back with the rest of the book so soon."

"Sometimes tragedy breeds inspiration." Hubert said.

The editor nodded. "Well, if it's any consolation, the ending was beautiful. Darion choosing love was perfect. Me and my wife cried all throughout the last two chapters."

"Thank you. It was sort of an homage to my brother in law. He loved the legend of Lady Byleth and the castle. I figured I should let him live on and give him the happy ending with her."

"Well, it was fan-fucking-tastic. I'm working on the edits, but I sent the rough draft over to the publishers and they're thinking bestseller list for sure. If it sells well enough, maybe even a movie deal."

The rest of the meeting was just business, so Edelgard saw herself out of the room. She headed towards the office with her phone, which she had neglected until that moment. It was blinking with a message. A message from Dimitri's number.

_ He'll be ready to see everyone tonight if you want to come to my apartment -Byleth _

It seemed a little early to be getting messages from Byleth, given her nocturnal nature, but then again, she also seemed far more human than any vampire she had ever heard of. Maybe her kind had bouts of insomnia and stayed up past their usual hour watching YouTube videos as well. Maybe this was one such occurrence and thought it was as good a time as any to send the message out. 

Edelgard pushed those thoughts from her mind and responded.

_ Should I invite our parents? Does he want to see them? _

Less than a minute, then,

_ Yes he wants to see them _

She put the phone on the desk and took a few minutes to compose herself. This all felt so strange, and yet, part of her knew that this was always how things were meant to go. They were meant to be together, but this time, she could appreciate that without the pain she had as her other self. This was dated, regardless of how much Edelgard told herself she didn't believe in things like fate.

The sound of the front door sounded off, telling Edelgard that Hubert must have shown the editor out. She wondered briefly if he had gone out for a cigarette, but when he was pushing open the office door with a practiced apprehension as if to gauge whether she was busy, she knew he hadn't. 

"Is everything alright?" His face had a rare bit of emotion etched into it, but she had expected as much over the last week. Hubert had been her rock throughout it all, her constant. Whatever cold feet she had at the prospect of marrying him had been chased away forever because of that.

"Dimitri's feeling well enough to entertain guests tonight and would like us to visit." She said simply. 

"Whatever you feel is best, of course. I'm still waiting to hear that Byleth lied about her ability to bring him back as she is though."

"I know, me as well," She slipped her hands in her pockets, "but...what I know of her from those past memories, she's a woman of her word."

Hubert nodded once. "So we're going."

"Yes. And she told me to invite our parents as well."

* * *

**Dimitri**

The pain that seared through him was the most prominent memory of his week. At first, it was like a raging fire burning him from the inside out. Dimitri thought he must have been dying; the agony of it was worse than the car accident, worse even than cracking his skull on the stairs in his fall. Once, he had managed to stumble out of the bed in a dreamlike haze to try to eat in a misguided belief that he was hungry. Dimitri hadn't even made it to the fridge when he collapsed, and when he woke up again, it was two days later and in bed once more. 

After the pain was two days of nothingness. Dimitri felt as though he was drifting in an endless inky blackness that consumed him inside and out. In the darkness, he had no sense of self or identity. He  _ was _ the darkness. Darkness was all he knew, all he ever knew. 

Dimitri woke on the fifth day in Byleth's bed. He no longer burned, nor lost all sense of self in the blackness. But, he was exhausted. Exhausted and starved. That was the first time he recalled seeing Byleth since his fall. She cradled him against her. The smell of her skin was intoxicating. No, not her skin.  _ Her blood _ . His newfound fangs grazed her skin, and at her encouragement, he sank them into her flesh.

Nothing had ever felt as sweet as her blood. He was drunk off her in moments. The blood flowing from her into him was like liquid euphoria. His entire being screamed for it when he pulled away, thirst sated for the time being. Dimitri collapsed back into the bed, panting and stained with blood. Within moments, he was asleep again in his lover's arms. 

When he woke on the seventh day, everything felt different. He was seeing the world around him with new eyes, feeling the world with new nerves. Dimitri ran his fingers along his torso, finding the skin beneath his both familiar and foreign. He was cool to the touch but somehow more sensitive than he had ever been despite the sturdiness of the skin. 

His eye was also better suited for the dark of Byleth's bedroom, he found as he looked around to get an idea of where he was. She was beside him, clear as daylight, and curled against him in a peaceful sleep. It had to be morning, he assumed based on the heavy curtains drawn to cover the windows and his sleeping lover. 

Dimitri settled in beside her once more and wrapped an arm around her. He kissed both her cheeks and then her lips, which caused her to rouse and eventually wake.

"Dimitri…" she said groggily. 

"Go back to sleep."

Byleth groaned and grappled around for her phone off the nightstand and checked the time. "How are you feeling? Do you want to see everyone tonight?"

"Yeah. I do. I would like to see everyone."

She grabbed for his phone, which had been sitting on the nightstand beside hers, and began texting everyone while he fell back asleep. 

* * *

"Time to wake up." 

Byleth's voice roused him from his dreamless sleep, though there was something in his subconscious that knew he would have woken up soon without her. 

His mouth was dry; he ran his tongue along all his teeth to test just how severe it was and felt the fangs in his mouth. Dimitri knew they had been there, but he had never been so aware of them as when he prodded his tongue against them. 

"I have fangs." He said, looking up at Byleth. She had a bit of makeup on and was dressed in something presentable. 

"So do I," she flashed him a grin to showcase them, "but you need to get up. Everyone will be here soon and you haven't showered or changed in a week."

"In a moment." Dimitri cinched his arms around her waist and pulled her on top of him for a kiss. He didn't notice the coldness that was prevalent the first time they kissed. Or more likely, he was just as cold now. 

Byleth broke the kiss before it got too deep and they both knew that doing what they set out to would become far more difficult. "I asked your sister to drop off some of your clothes yesterday. I hope you don't mind. We'll start emptying out the apartment tomorrow night."

Dimitri pulled himself out of bed and surveyed the room. As expected, his suitcase was sitting near her dresser. He headed over and picked out some clean things to wear. 

"So I'll be living here with you now? What about my apartment? And what will I do for a living?"

"Your landlord has been very kind, given your passing. He isn't charging your family for the rest of the lease and is allowing that time to clear out your possessions. And as for work, Seteth has a job proposition for you."

"Seteth? So is he a--"

"--yes. He's older than I am and has clearance enough to offer you a job that'll be possible to do from home."

"You thought of everything."

"I had a lot of help from those around me who have done this sort of thing before," she began smoothing out the bedsheets, "I invited them to come after everyone else leaves."

* * *

Everyone began showing up around 8:30, and Dimitri could sense the tense atmosphere right away. Byleth had made sure he fed before they started arriving, so he didn't have to contend with the hunger, but it was little things he picked up that he never would have before. The flicker in Ashe's eyes, the way Sylvain was keeping a wide breadth between them, Annette wringing her hands around the strap of her purse. They were all meaningless as a human, but as this reborn creature, they seemed all too important to notice. Later, he would ask Byleth about it, if the observations were part of this new life, or if that week of sleep just left him grasping at body language for interaction.

"Holy shit, you really brought him back to life." Sylvain was the first to break the silence, and it was more from shock than anything. 

The first to actually approach him was Mercedes. At first, he thought it to be a clinical curiosity by the way her eyes shifted between various points of his person. But just as soon as he thought she would fall back with the others and avoid him, she embraced him. Before he even had time to process what had happened, Annette was joining the hug. Then Ashe. Then everyone else. Someone was crying, though it was so muffled by the others that he couldn't figure who. 

They all peeled away one by one, though the air around them was marginally different. Annette was wiping tears away from her cheeks and muttering  _ we thought you died _ in a voice that would go unnoticed by human ears. Felix wrapped an arm around her despite that.

"So that's it? You're alive now?" Felix's tone was even and without the bite, he expected from him.

"I...I'm different now." he said.

"He... _ we... _ can't go out with you anymore. We could probably visit you at your homes, and you could come here, but public places are ill-advised."

"But you went out to eat with Ashe and I."

"And I've been dead so long that everyone who ever knew me is no longer living, and precautions were taken to erase me from history books. There are people alive now who know Dimitri, who know he had an accident and died."

"That makes sense," said Ingrid, "it has to be lonely, having to give up everything like that."

"I have Byleth," Dimitri looked to her with a faint smile, "and the rest of you can visit. I won't be lonely."

"What about our parents? You suggested inviting them today, and they're on their way, but how are we going to explain this? Dimitri's alive for all intents and purposes, but they saw his dead body." Edelgard was passing between the kitchen and living room, arms folded over her chest as she did. Dimitri could tell she was frustrated by something by the way she walked, but he remained silent on the matter.

"I think seeing is believing."

There was some more conversation. Hubert and Mercedes recalled the funeral to Dimitri. She mentioned the beauty of the floral arrangements, the lovely words his friends and family spoke of him. That it was all very lovely. Hubert was a bit more spartan in approach, choosing to only mention who all was there and where they had lain him to rest in case he ever wished to visit the grave he climbed out of. 

They talked some more. Dedue had spoken with Byleth earlier about their unique dietary needs and promised that he and Ashe would visit soon to cook for them. Then, the issue of the castle was brought up.

"Who is going to lead the restoration now," asked Glenn, "you can't exactly be there by day to make sure everything is running smoothly."

That question gave Dimitri pause. He hadn't the time to put his affairs in order during the week, so it was something he didn't readily have answers for. Byleth may have been at his side now, but the castle was still important to him. They lived together there, had planned on raising their children there. Seeing it empty and broken was like a jolt of pain through him.

"You and Ingrid should lead it with Sylvain and Felix in charge of the restorative aspects."

"What? Are you sure?" Sylvain fell back a step in his shock.

"Of course. You're all the best at what you do and deserve the recognition for this project. I'll still be here to lend guidance, and Byleth said she has a career opportunity for me that might be beneficial to the project, but I must take a step back from it."

Felix shuffled. He had a look of frustration on his face, but that quickly passed when a smile replaced it. "Well, I guess we better do our best, given you died for the place."

Dimitri chuckled. "Indeed."

Everyone but Edelgard and Hubert began filing out after that, all offering additional hugs and promises to come visit whenever they could. Dimitri was touched by the sincerity of it. Usually when people made promises like that, it was with a sort of half promise that would fall through at the first convenience. This was real, he knew this. Dedue and Ashe  _ would _ come over to try to make something for them that appealed to their new sensibilities. Mercedes  _ would _ have them over as soon as he was completely adjusted. 

"Mother and Father are on their way up." Said Edelgard once the others had left. She left the apartment, but only long enough to retrieve them.

Her words caused Dimitri to stiffen. Byleth must have noticed this as she came to his side and held his hand for reassurance. 

The door opened. It felt like a snail's crawl, though Dimitri rationalized it was probably his apprehension that made it feel that way. Edelgard was the first to step in. She cast him a look meant to convey a message that he was supposed to understand. He could see their mother behind her, and the journey her face took when she laid eyes on him.

"My baby!" She wailed and dropped her purse on the floor to run over to him and embrace him.

"Patricia, I--Dimitri? Is that you?" 

Another weight crashed into him, which he assumed to be his father. A third followed, that one was Edelgard.

"I don't know how you're here, but I've never been happier."

"It's you? It's really you?"

"Yes. It's really me."

The four of them were all crying when they separated. His mother had tried to conceal it, much like Edelgard was, but he and his father were crying openly. Guilt bloomed in his gut while watching them that made him feel all the more uneasy about everything.

His mother sat beside him on the couch and took his hands in hers. "How are you--you're cold as ice!"

"I...I need to explain something to you."

* * *

"I don't understand. You're saying you're a vampire?" Asked his father. He looked to Edelgard, who shook her head.

"I know it sounds unbelievable, and I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it myself," Edelgard shut her eyes, "but we were all there. We watched him fall. We watched Byleth do...what she did. And he's sitting right there like nothing happened, so I have to believe it was real."

"What does this mean, Dimitri? If you're a…" she couldn't bring herself to say the word, "can we not see you anymore? Are you going to hurt others to survive?"

"We can sustain ourselves on a high iron diet and a supplement regimen, so the consumption of blood is unnecessary." 

Byleth's hand found his shoulder. The comfort of it was a balm for his raging emotions. Neither of his parents would meet his gaze. He felt incredibly self-conscious about the entire thing. Dimitri craned his neck to look at Byleth, who met him with an impassive gaze. Her touch on his shoulder grew a bit more firm as if to tell him that she was there in spite of the fear he was feeling. 

"Can we still see you? Or…"

"I...public places are off-limits, but you could come here, or we could come to you. But you can't tell anyone about me. I have to be dead to the outside world." A pang of guilt formed in the pit of his stomach while he spoke. Dimitri knew he wanted this; nothing could convince him otherwise. And yet seeing his mother like this, seeing how his father grabbed for her hand and tried to comfort her, it was all so painful. Tears were streaming down both his mother's and father's faces, resulting in tears from him in equal measure. They both grabbed him for a hug once more.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetie. I'm so sorry you're going through this."

"It's okay, Mother. This is what I want." He meant if, no matter how much it may have hurt to say it.

"But are you sure? Is this what you really want?"

"My blackouts were leading me to Byleth. I don't think I could ever go back to a normal life without her even if there was a way." Dimitri looked back to Byleth once more, who afforded him a small smile. He felt more sure of what had happened when she looked at him like that. Felt like this was fated to happen. In spite of the pain he felt presently, Dimitri knew he would hurt more to lose her once more. 

"I'm happy you found what you were looking for, but I wish it didn't have to be like this." His father scooped him up in a hug that was a little too tight like he didn't want to let go.

"I wanted this even before I died," Dimitri explained, "and it isn't goodbye. Not really."

* * *

It was close to midnight by the time his parents, Edelgard, and Hubert finally left. Byleth made them a quick dinner of frozen fish patties and a leafy green salad while she contacted the others like them. Dimitri practically inhaled the meal and found it satiated the hunger just fine, but preferred the way Byleth's blood made him feel. Maybe there was something different about vampire blood. Or maybe it was because she was the one who turned him. He would have to ask her later.

Half an hour passed and Seteth and Flayn arrived, followed by Rhea ten minutes later. Seeing them all there, it made him wonder how he never realized what they were even before, but found such thoughts were neither here nor there when they had a reason for seeing him. 

"Good evening, Dimitri. I hope your transformation was not an unpleasant one." Flayn said with a smile. 

"Is it always like that? Or does it vary from person to person?" He recalled the pain, the nothingness, the hunger that seared inside him until he fed. It felt so isolating while he went through it, but having these others now, he felt more comfortable knowing that someone else understood. For the  _ first _ time, someone understood.

"Seteth and I were born as we are, as was Flayn, but she is only half, so she never experienced a turning either," said Rhea in a tone that he found comforting, "of our small family, Byleth and you are the only ones who have that experience."

Dimitri looked to Byleth.

"My transformation is where the Ashen Demon legend comes from."

"I see. But are there others like us outside of us here? And what about the one who killed Blaiddyd and turned you? Is he still around?"

"We...disposed of him long ago," Seteth said uneasily.

"Thales was not content with immortality alone and wished to sow seeds of chaos among the humans. Turning Byleth had been a mistake he hadn't realized he committed until she hunted him down." 

"You...you killed him?"

"He killed you first."

Dimitri could tell that Byleth did not wish to elaborate on it. She may have kept her face as stony as ever, but he could see it in other ways. Like how she picked at the sleeve of her shirt or the slight shift in tone. He didn't wish to make her uncomfortable, so he switched topics.

"So, there are others, then."

"Yes, however, we mostly stick to our small circle."

"And what of this job, Seteth? Byleth mentioned you had an opportunity for me?"

"I do, and I think it will appeal to your interests and skillset."

* * *

**Annette**

**Five Years Later**

"Hi! Welcome to Castle Blaiddyd! My name is Annette Dominic and I will be your guide on this flagship tour."

The camera was trained on her while she led a small group of people into the castle. After its completion, they had agreed to film a guided tour video to submit to the Faerghus Tourism board and also the government. The goal was to have the location officially turned into a historical location and have it protected for years to come. She had on good authority that it would be; Dimitri was working on making it a possibility. He had a position on the Faerghus historical society board and was to become chairman of the Blaiddyd Castle museum and historical site once everything was finalized. Still, she was eager to be the tour guide to the small group of children and their parents.

"The restoration efforts took four years and seven months in total, with countless man-hours put into it. The columns here," she gestured toward one, "are entirely original fixtures, with only one having to be rebuilt. We were able to find a local quarry that still mines the same stones, so without carbon dating, the average person would not be able to tell the difference."

She led them down one of the first floor corridors, where some of the paintings she restored were kept. The children stopped to admire a particularly animated painting recalling one of the many battles King Blaiddyd partook in. "These paintings here are all original and restored by me, Annette Dominic. When we did a cursory tour of the castle five years ago, we found many of the paintings still present and in workable condition. This one here is of King Blaiddyd on Grondor Field. Historians believe that battle was likely the turning point of the war. If you look over in the rightmost corner, you can see Lady Byleth in the background fighting as well."

One of the children raised their hands. "Lady Byleth isn't real."

"Oh, but we found evidence that she absolutely was real. Come this way and I'll take you to the burial chamber next."

The corridor leading toward the burial chamber was lined with candles and LED lights for illumination. Wiring the castle with electricity would have been too labor-intensive and would have prevented the location from being made a historical site. So, solar-powered LED lights that were replaced monthly by staff was the decision. 

"Mind your step. The stairs are a little steep."

Annette flicked her flashlight on and gestured for the crowd and cameraman to follow her. "Here we have the final resting places of King Blaiddyd and Lady Byleth. Our team of historians and archeologists ran the sarcophagi and their contents through the proper tests to be certain that this is in fact Blaiddyd and Byleth."

One of the other children raised their hands. "My big brother said Lady Byleth is the Ashen Demon and she eats people."

She crouched down with her hands on her knees to meet the kid at eye level. "Well, that's not the story I've heard. The story I heard was Lady Byleth's ghost was searching for King Blaiddyd, but she couldn't find him because his tomb was hidden. But since we excavated this chamber, she was finally able to find him and now they rest peacefully together." 

The kid made a sour face. "She'd be cooler if she still haunted the castle."

"The author Hubert von Vestra wrote a fiction book about the legend of Lady Byleth with the primary location being Castle Blaiddyd. They'll be filming the movie adaptation here shortly with Dorothea Arnault playing Lady Byleth. Now, if you would follow me, I'll take you up to the royal chambers."

Spinning on her heels, Annette headed back towards the stairs leading up out of the burial chamber. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket at the landing and checked her messages. Felix was on his way over with their daughter and Sylvain and Mercedes' twins. He remembered to pick up the java chip frappuccino with a shot of espresso she wanted too. Smiling, she replaced the phone and gestured them on. 

"Right this way, please."

She would need that extra burst of sugar and caffeine. At sundown, Byleth and Dimitri would be coming to see the castle, and she wanted to see the looks on their faces when they got to see their home once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
